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Ghosts of Willow Creek

Explore the Darkness that Lurks Within the Old Mansion's Walls

By Michael TauyePublished 2 months ago 3 min read
Ghosts of Willow Creek
Photo by Eleonora Gaini on Unsplash

In the quiet town of Willow Creek, nestled amongst the whispering pines and murmuring brooks, there existed a house - an old, dilapidated relic of a forgotten era. Its weathered facade bore witness to countless tales, some whispered in hushed tones by the locals, while others remained buried in the shadows of its decaying walls.

On this particular evening, a group of teenagers, drawn by a morbid curiosity, gathered outside the house. Andrew, a boy with a streak of defiance, hesitated at the threshold, his senses tingling with an inexplicable dread.

"Come on, just do it," urged Mike, his voice laced with impatience. But Andrew's resolve wavered, his mind plagued by visions of the horrors that must have unfolded within those cursed walls.

"No, I've changed my mind," Andrew protested, his voice trembling with unease. "You're just gonna pull some stupid prank and make me look like a fool."

But Mike's insistence was relentless, fueled by the whispers of forbidden tales that had spread like wildfire through the halls of their high school.

"Everyone at school's talking about this," Mike persisted, his eyes alight with a feverish excitement. "This is our chance to prove them wrong."

Reluctantly, Andrew acquiesced, his trepidation overshadowed by a desire to prove his bravery. With hesitant steps, he crossed the threshold into the darkness that awaited within.

As Andrew ascended the creaking staircase, a sense of foreboding gripped his heart like icy tendrils. The air grew thick with anticipation, suffused with the lingering scent of decay and despair.

At the top of the staircase, Andrew found himself standing before a door, its surface marred by years of neglect. With trembling hands, he pushed it open, revealing a dimly lit chamber shrouded in shadows.

"Okay, now what?" Andrew whispered, his voice barely audible above the pounding of his own heart.

Mike's instructions echoed in his mind as he retrieved the candles from his pocket. With a flick of his lighter, he ignited their flames, casting flickering shadows upon the walls.

"Fill up the bath," Mike's voice echoed in his mind, urging him forward.

Andrew hesitated for a moment, the weight of uncertainty pressing down upon him. But with a shaky resolve, he approached the bathtub, its porcelain surface gleaming dully in the dim light.

As the water began to flow, Andrew's thoughts drifted to the rhyme Mike had taught him, its words etched into his memory like a sinister incantation.

"Lady beneath, who drowned in this water," Andrew recited, his voice trembling with apprehension. "Lady beneath, who strangled her daughter..."

But before he could finish, a sudden chill enveloped the room, sending shivers down his spine. The air grew thick with an oppressive sense of malevolence, as if unseen eyes watched his every move.

"Mike, I told you nothing was..." Andrew's words trailed off into a strangled gasp as a figure materialized before him, its form obscured by the shadows.

With a sinking feeling of dread, Andrew realized the truth - he was not alone in the darkness.

"Foreign," a voice whispered, its words like shards of ice piercing his very soul. "Wake up, please..."

But it was too late. The darkness closed in around him, swallowing him whole as he succumbed to the horrors that lurked within the house of Willow Creek.

And as the echoes of his screams faded into the night, the house stood silent once more, its secrets buried beneath layers of darkness and despair.

urban legendpsychologicalmonsterhalloweenfictionCONTENT WARNING

About the Creator

Michael Tauye

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