THE NIGHT OF HAUNTED LOCATION

POV- MIA CARTER

------------------

The road stretched out like a forgotten scar in the forest, winding deeper into nothingness. No signs, no turns, just endless trees crowding in like watchers in the dark. The headlights cut through the fog, revealing only fragments of the path ahead. Inside the car, no one spoke. Even Jason, who normally couldn’t shut up, was silent. It wasn’t just nerves—it was the weight of where we were going.

Ravenwood.

A town that looked like it had been yanked out of another century. Cobblestone streets, flickering gas lamps, and a towering clock that loomed over the town like it was keeping time for something far more sinister than schedules. The locals didn’t like strangers. We asked for directions to Blackwood Hill, and the man at the antique store just shook his head and muttered, “Turn back before it’s too late.”

We didn’t.

We followed the old trail up Blackwood Hill, tires slipping on the gravel road as the fog thickened. Claire clutched her coat tighter around herself. I could see her lips moving silently—maybe a prayer. Ethan kept checking the GPS, but it had stopped working miles ago. Classic. The deeper we drove, the more it felt like the trees were closing in behind us, sealing our way out.

Then we saw it.

Blackwood Manor.

The car's beams lit up the decrepit face of the mansion, its windows like hollow eyes watching us. Ivy strangled the stone, the porch sagged, and the gate barely clung to its rusted hinges. A warped sign swung in the wind, almost unreadable. Jason pointed his flashlight at it.

"DO NOT ENTER – CONDEMNED"

“Perfect,” he grinned.

We stepped out into the cold. The wind had a bite to it—sharp and bitter, like it didn’t want us there. I grabbed the equipment from the trunk and passed it around. Lanterns. Cameras. EVP recorder. Salt. Chalk. Rope.

“Okay,” I said, keeping my voice steady. “Stick to the plan. No faking anything, no cutting footage. We play it exactly how the legend says.”

Claire didn’t reply. She just stared at the looming house, her face pale.

I led the way up the rotting steps. Every board creaked like it was screaming. The moment my foot touched the porch, something shifted. The air got heavier, like I was walking into a memory that didn’t want to be disturbed.

The door was already ajar, groaning open with a push from Jason. Inside, the house was a tomb of dust and shadows. Furniture lay draped in white, portraits lined the walls with cracked, watchful eyes, and the smell—mold, rot, something dead—clung to everything.

We set up base in the living room. Jason filmed the intro while Ethan tested the thermal cam. Claire stuck close to me, shivering even though she was bundled up.

And now, with the fear still fresh in our bones, we’re heading to our next location.

The game isn’t over. It never was.

Because Lillian?

She’s still waiting.

# To be continued

***Download NovelToon to enjoy a better reading experience!***