MAYANK

Nai-post Huwebes, Mayo 23, 2024

28d

ENTP

Leo

2

3

A Short Horror Story

In the quiet town of Hawthorne, there was a house that everyone whispered about but never dared to enter. It was old, with peeling paint and broken windows that seemed to stare blankly at passersby. The story went that the house had once belonged to a family who vanished overnight, leaving everything behind. On a dare, Emily and her friends decided to spend a night inside. Armed with flashlights and sleeping bags, they entered the house just as the sun set, casting eerie shadows across the creaking floorboards. The air was thick with the scent of mildew and something else—something they couldn’t quite place. As they explored, they found the house unnervingly intact. Dust-covered furniture still stood in place, family photos lined the walls, and a child's toys were scattered in a corner. But there was one room that drew their attention: the basement. The door was heavy and cold to the touch, almost as if it were warning them to stay away. Ignoring the unease that crept up their spines, they descended the stairs, their flashlights cutting through the thick darkness. The basement was cluttered with old furniture and boxes, but it was the wall at the far end that held their gaze. There, scrawled in what looked like dried blood, were the words: "They watch. They wait. They hunger." Suddenly, the temperature dropped. Emily’s breath fogged in the air, and the shadows seemed to twist and writhe around them. A low, guttural whisper echoed through the room, saying her name. Heart pounding, Emily turned to her friends, but they were gone. The basement was empty, save for her and the encroaching darkness. Desperate, she stumbled back up the stairs, only to find the door wouldn’t budge. The whispering grew louder, more insistent. She could feel eyes on her, hungry and unseen. Panic set in as she pounded on the door, screaming for help, but her voice seemed swallowed by the house. Then she saw them. Ghostly figures, pale and translucent, emerged from the shadows, their hollow eyes fixed on her. One of them, a woman with a sorrowful expression, reached out a hand. “Join us,” she whispered. “You can never leave.” As the figures closed in, Emily's screams echoed through the house, mixing with the whispers of those who had come before her. Outside, the house stood silent and still, its windows dark and lifeless, holding its secrets close and its prisoners closer.