The House at Ravenwood
James had always been fascinated by old houses. When he heard about the abandoned mansion in Ravenwood, he couldn't resist. The stories about it were countless: whispers of ghosts, eerie shadows at night, and the legend of a family that vanished without a trace.
Ignoring the warnings, James drove to Ravenwood. The mansion stood like a forgotten relic, its windows shattered, vines creeping up its decayed walls. The heavy wooden door creaked as he pushed it open. Inside, dust coated everything, and the air smelled of rot and old memories.
With a flashlight in hand, James explored. Faded portraits lined the walls, their painted eyes seeming to follow his every move. As he stepped into the grand hall, he heard it—a whisper. At first, he thought it was the wind, but the voice grew clearer. "Help us..."
His heart pounded. "Who's there?" he called out, but only silence responded.
Determined to uncover the truth, he climbed the grand staircase, each step groaning under his weight. On the second floor, a long hallway stretched before him. At the end was a door, slightly ajar. As he approached, he felt the air grow colder.
Pushing the door open, he found a nursery. A rocking chair swayed gently, though there was no breeze. A child's drawing lay on the floor—a picture of a family with hollow, dark eyes. Then he saw it: a reflection in the cracked mirror. A woman in a tattered dress stood behind him, her mouth moving silently.
James turned abruptly, but no one was there. The whispering returned, louder this time. "Leave before it’s too late..."
His flashlight flickered, and in that instant, the air thickened with an unnatural presence. The door slammed shut behind him. Panic set in. He rushed to the door, but it wouldn’t budge. Then he felt it—a cold breath on his neck.
Turning slowly, he saw them. A family of shadowy figures, their faces twisted in agony. The mother reached out, her translucent fingers brushing his arm. "We are trapped," she whispered. "You must free us."
James’s mind raced. "How?" he asked, his voice barely audible.
The woman pointed to the fireplace. A hidden compartment lay behind the bricks. He pried it open and found a rusted locket. Inside was a faded photo of the family. The whispers intensified, now desperate. "Burn it..."
With trembling hands, he tossed the locket into the fireplace. Flames roared to life, consuming the metal. The air crackled, and an anguished scream filled the room. The shadows twisted and dissolved into the darkness.
Suddenly, the door creaked open. James stumbled out, gasping for breath. The house felt... lighter. The oppressive presence was gone.
As he reached his car, he glanced back. The mansion stood silent, its windows dark. But just before he turned away, he saw her—the woman in the window—smiling.
James never returned to Ravenwood, but the whispers still haunted his dreams.