Chapter 1: The House
Elena Voss stood at the edge of the gravel path, her boots sinking
slightly into the damp earth. Coldwater Hollow was quiet—too quiet for a
town that once buzzed with summer tourists and antique hunters. The
trees had grown wild, their branches clawing at the sky like fingers
reaching for something they’d long forgotten.
The house loomed ahead, its windows black and blind, the porch sagging
like a broken jaw. Paint peeled in long, curling strips. The front door
hung slightly ajar, as if waiting.
Elena V.
💭I haven't been here in 18 years...the house has gotten even creepier...
Elena V.
*Her hands slightly tremble, as she takes out the key and fumbles with the lock*
Naomi H.
📲Elena? You there?
Elena V.
📲I'm here, Naomi...it's so much worse than I remember!
Naomi H.
📲You sure you want to do this?
Elena V.
📲 I don't want to. I have too. Unfortunately.
Naomi H.
📲 Just.. be careful, okay? That house has a history.
Elena V.
📲*sighs* yeah...I know better than anyone. *hangs up, as the door opens*
The air was stale, thick with the scent of mildew and something
metallic—like rust, or blood. Wallpaper curled like dead skin. The
floorboards groaned beneath her feet, each step a protest
Elena V.
*Stops walking and pauses in the foyer. She glances at the mirror above the fireplace- cracked, shattered, and yet, it still reflected the light in glittering rays*
Unknown
*a low whisper* Elena...
Elena V.
*Blinks, stumbling back. Her brown eyes widen in shock*
Elena V.
What the actual...
Elena V.
*Turns around sharply, heart thumping wildly, as she knows the best way to stay safe sometimes, is to ignore creepy stuff*
Elena V.
Nothing happened, Elena. It's just...the wind.
She walked through the living room, past the dusty piano and the
armchair her mother used to sit in. The cushions were torn, the fabric
stained. A child’s drawing lay on the floor—crayon lines depicting a
girl with no eyes, standing in front of the house.
Elena V.
*Picks it up* Huh...?!
The Caption on the drawing reads- "She lives in the walls."
Elena V.
*freezes. The voice came from upstairs.* This.. it's my mother's voice...
Elena V.
That can't be possible...
Elena V.
She died a year ago in the fire!
Elena V.
*gulps, and grabs a metal rod*
Her legs moved before her mind caught up. She climbed the stairs slowly,
each step creaking beneath her weight. The hallway was dark, the
wallpaper scorched in places. At the end stood the nursery door—painted
white, untouched by time.
Elena V.
💭 I don't remember this being here...
Unknown
*the voice reduces to a whisper- sad, pitiful, and utterly vulnerable* Elena...please...
Elena V.
*opens the door hesitantly, gripping the rod tighter*
Inside was a crib. A doll lay
in the crib, its eyes gouged out, its mouth stitched shut.
Elena V.
*her hands fly up to her mouth, as she lets out a scream. The rod clatters down to the floor as she steps back, looking at it horrified* No..no..no..NO!
Elena V.
What kind of pathetic trick is this?!
*She trembles, her body shaking as she stares at the doll*
Elena V.
💭 I swear... I saw it smile. What have I gotten myself into?
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