Prologue: The Whispers

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You all might have read several types of horror and gothic novels, but this might be a different experience for you all. This novel might not be as simple as you think.

I guarantee you a spine-chilling read through this novel .....

So my dear readers....!!

Immerse yourself in a gripping psychological thriller that will keep you guessing until the ultimate surprising turn.

Prologue:

They say Willow House breathes.

At night, beneath the hush of rustling trees and the cry of wind that circles the hill, the old manor exhales—soft creaks of aged floorboards, faint sighs from forgotten halls, a rhythm like something alive, sleeping lightly in its bones.

“They say the Willow House watches. That it remembers every soul who sets foot inside. And it never lets go.”

It had been asleep for years.

Until the child came.

And the house stirred—walls shivering in the silence, dust shifting like breath drawn in. As if it sensed a presence, or the return of something it had long been waiting for.

She arrived with no footsteps, no name, and no memory. Just wide, glassy eyes and a faded ribbon in her hair. The villagers spoke of her in whispers. Some claimed she wandered out of the woods alone. Others swore she’d always been in that house, waiting, watching. The doors never opened. Yet sometimes, late at night, a light flickered behind the windows, and a shadow moved across the glass.

They called her cursed.

No one dared enter Willow House.

Not until he came.

Elias Thorne had forgotten the place, buried it with the rest of his childhood like something dead. But blood binds tighter than memory. A letter, written in a trembling hand and sealed with the family crest, summoned him back to the estate after a decade of silence.

“Come home,” it said. “The house remembers you.”

On his first night, he found the girl sitting at the top of the stairs, as if she’d known he was coming. As if she'd been waiting for him. A chill climbed his spine, not from fear, but recognition. He felt, absurdly, that he had seen her before—perhaps in a dream he had forgotten or a memory not his own. She said nothing. She only stared at him with those eyes—too old for her face, too knowing.

And then the whispering began....!

From the walls. The floorboards. The mirrors. His dreams.

Names that were not his, stories that were never told. A lullaby hummed by a voice long dead. Each night, the past crept closer, dragging its cold hands through Elias’s thoughts, unraveling truths he'd never lived but somehow remembered.

And through it all, the child never spoke a single word.

But sometimes—just sometimes—when Elias turned away, he swore he saw her lips move, mouthing something only the house could hear.

Something like a warning.

Or a promise.

Or a secret the house could no longer keep.

__End of the prologue__

May I grab your attention's dear readers!

I hope that the prologue was intriguing !!

See you all in the very first chapter of this novel...

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