Jake and Emily had always wanted a fresh start. When they found the old Victorian house on the outskirts of town, it seemed perfect - spacious, affordable, and surrounded by dense woods. The real estate agent hesitated when they asked why it had been on the market so long. "Some... unfortunate events," she muttered before changing the subject.
The first few nights were peaceful. But then, the whispers began. At first, they were soft, almost like the wind slipping through the cracks. But soon, they grew distinct - urgent voices murmuring unintelligible words in the dead of night.
One evening, while unpacking in the attic, Emily found a small wooden door hidden behind a stack of old trunks. It had no handle, just a keyhole, and looked as though it hadn't been touched in years. She called Jake, and together they pried it open.
Behind the door was a narrow passage leading down to a hidden basement. The air was thick with decay. In the dim light, they saw something carved into the stone wall: LEAVE WHILE YOU CAN.
Suddenly, a whisper echoed through the room, clear and chilling:
"You shouldn't have opened it."
The door behind them slammed shut. Jake yanked at it, but it wouldn't budge. The whispers turned to wails. Shadows writhed along the walls, stretching, twisting into figures with hollow eyes and gaping mouths.
Emily screamed as unseen hands yanked at her hair, her clothes. Jake felt his breath leave his lungs as something cold gripped his throat.
Then, silence.
The door creaked open on its own. They bolted upstairs, leaving everything behind.
The next morning, they packed their car, ready to leave for good. But as they drove away, Emily glanced back at the house.
In the attic window, a shadow stood watching.
And then... it waved.
The first few nights were peaceful. But then, the whispers began. At first, they were soft, almost like the wind slipping through the cracks. But soon, they grew distinct - urgent voices murmuring unintelligible words in the dead of night.
One evening, while unpacking in the attic, Emily found a small wooden door hidden behind a stack of old trunks. It had no handle, just a keyhole, and looked as though it hadn't been touched in years. She called Jake, and together they pried it open.
Behind the door was a narrow passage leading down to a hidden basement. The air was thick with decay. In the dim light, they saw something carved into the stone wall: LEAVE WHILE YOU CAN.
Suddenly, a whisper echoed through the room, clear and chilling:
"You shouldn't have opened it."
The door behind them slammed shut. Jake yanked at it, but it wouldn't budge. The whispers turned to wails. Shadows writhed along the walls, stretching, twisting into figures with hollow eyes and gaping mouths.
Emily screamed as unseen hands yanked at her hair, her clothes. Jake felt his breath leave his lungs as something cold gripped his throat.
Then, silence.
The door creaked open on its own. They bolted upstairs, leaving everything behind.
The next morning, they packed their car, ready to leave for good. But as they drove away, Emily glanced back at the house.
In the attic window, a shadow stood watching.
And then... it waved.