Everyone in the village called it "Whisper Hollow." No one dared enter after sunset. They said the house breathed. That its old wooden floors groaned not with weight—but warning.
Curious and foolish, Ravi decided to explore it one evening. He was a skeptic. Ghosts were for stories, not real life.
The front door creaked open without a touch. Dust swirled in the air like it had been disturbed moments before. The floorboards whispered under his steps—actual words he couldn’t make out. Goosebumps rose on his arms.