the Whispers in the Dark

And just like that, time passed… Anaa was no longer the little girl from years ago—she was now thirteen, a young soul burdened with quiet strength. One day, while doing her chores, she chatted softly with Charlet as they worked together in that old, shadowy place they now called home.

Far away, hidden deep in the woods bordering the town, a lone figure stood among the trees. His eyes burned with a quiet intensity as he whispered to himself, "Finally, I’ve found you, Anaa... I’m coming for you."

That night, Anaa stirred from her sleep with a jolt. A strange voice echoed through the air—sobbing, laughing, whispering . She slipped out of bed, barefoot and curious, the wooden floor creaking beneath her steps as she followed the haunting sound. It was as if the night itself was calling her.

Suddenly, someone grabbed her hand from behind.

Anaa gasped and turned, her heart pounding—only to see Charlet standing there, her face pale with worry.

"What are you doing out at this hour?" Charlet whispered, glancing nervously around.

Anaa, still dazed, replied, “I… I heard something. I thought someone was crying. I just came to clean—”

Before Charlet could respond, the landlady’s shrill voice cut through the silence like a knife.

"You two filthy rats! What are you doing out here?! Get back to your room, now!"

Without a word, Anaa and Charlet rushed back inside. But later that night, as they lay side by side, Charlet turned to her and said softly, “Promise me something, Anaa… If you ever hear a voice again—don’t follow it. No matter what. Never.”

Anaa was confused but nodded. She trusted Charlet more than anyone.

Far above, on the rooftop cloaked in moonlight, the same mysterious figure crouched silently, watching Anaa through the night.

The next morning, as Anaa worked, she overheard hushed whispers among the girls.

"They say this house is cursed... haunted. There's a ghost that screams every night," one girl said.

"And those who see her… vanish. All the missing girls—they were thirteen or older… and beautiful," another whispered.

Anaa’s heart tightened. Could it be? Was the voice I heard a ghost? Is that why Charlet was so afraid?

Days passed in uneasy silence. Then, one evening, Charlet came to Anaa, her face pale and wounded, blood staining her torn dress.

“Meet me at the back of the building tonight at six. Make sure no one sees you. We’re leaving this place,” she said urgently, not giving Anaa a chance to ask questions.

Anaa was stunned but nodded. She trusted Charlet—always had.

That night, Anaa finished her chores, ate her small meal in silence, and returned to her room. She had little to pack—just a few worn clothes and a piece of fabric her mother once stitched. When the house finally fell silent, Anaa slipped out, heart racing, and crept to the back of the building.

But no one was there.

She waited under the stars, cold and afraid. Hours passed. Charlet never came.

Exhausted, Anaa curled up by the wall and drifted into uneasy sleep.

Suddenly, the sound of footsteps echoed in the dark.

She woke up with a shiver.

She was alone… but someone was coming.

Someone was coming for her.

She was scared and then suddenly se saw a figure covered in wounds, blood staining she was charlet

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