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Horror Night

A night of thousand fear

By PraiseGod WilliamsPublished 3 months ago 3 min read

The night was dark and stormy. The wind howled outside, rattling the windows and chilling me to the bone. I lay in bed, shivering, as the rain pelted against the roof. Little did I know that this storm was just the beginning of a nightmarish evening that would forever haunt my thoughts.

As I drifted in and out of sleep, I began to hear faint whispers, echoing through the hallways. The hairs on the back of my neck stood on end, and my heart pounded in my chest. I convinced myself it was just my imagination, that the storm was playing tricks on my mind. But the whispers grew louder and more distinct, filling the room with an eerie presence.

Suddenly, the room plunged into darkness. The power had gone out. Panic set in as I fumbled for my phone, desperate for the comfort of its soft glow. With trembling hands, I managed to find the flashlight app and bathed the room in its feeble light.

I cautiously stepped out of bed, feeling the cold floor beneath my feet. The whispers persisted, growing more urgent with each passing moment. Against my better judgment, I followed their sinister call, slowly making my way down the creaking staircase.

The air grew colder with every step. Shadows moved and danced along the walls, casting grotesque shapes that sent shivers down my spine. As I reached the bottom of the stairs, I noticed a flickering light emanating from the corner of the room. Heart pounding, I approached cautiously, the whispers now incoherent voices that echoed in my mind.

I found myself standing before a dusty old mirror hanging on the wall. Its silvered surface was cracked and weathered, reflecting a haunting image of my trembling form. But there was something else; something beyond the reflection. Something otherworldly.

As I stared into the mirror, a figure slowly materialized behind me. Its presence was ethereal, dressed in tattered garments that swayed with each spectral breath. I could feel its piercing gaze upon me, icy tendrils creeping down my spine. I turned to face the ghostly figure, my heart pounding in my chest.

Before me stood a woman, her face pale and gaunt, her eyes hollow and distant. Her lips curled into a chilling smile that sent a shiver down my spine. I could feel her sorrow and anguish, her tormented soul trapped within the confines of this house.

The darkness around us seemed to pulse, as if feeding on her haunting presence. I could hear her faint whispers growing louder, her voice pleading for release, for someone to acknowledge her pain. My heart went out to her, overwhelmed by a mix of fear and empathy.

Summoning all the courage I had left, I spoke, my words quivering, "What do you want from me?"

The woman's ghostly form trembled, her voice resonating through the room. "Help me... free me from this torment."

I felt a surge of determination as I realized that I was the only one who could help her find peace. Braving the unknown, I listened to her story of betrayal and heartbreak, the tragic circumstances that led to her untimely demise.

Together, we embarked on a journey to unravel the mysteries of the house, searching for clues that could set her spirit free. As we delved into the dark past, we encountered eerie apparitions, unexplained phenomena, and witnessed the lingering remnants of past horrors within the house.

Days turned into nights, and nights turned into weeks, as we tirelessly pieced together the puzzle of the ghost's anguish. Finally, our efforts paid off. We discovered a hidden diary that held the key to her liberation. With trembling hands, I read the final entry, a tear-streaked testament to her pain.

With the diary in my possession, I returned to the mirror in the living room. As I recited the ancient incantation written on its pages, the ghostly woman was enveloped in a blinding light. I shielded my eyes as her anguished cries echoed through the room, slowly fading away until silence engulfed the house once more.

The storm outside subsided, and the lingering presence began to dissipate. The nightmare was over, and I was left standing alone, the weight of the experience etched into my very being.

Since that fateful night, the house has been eerily silent. The ghost's tormented presence has vanished, as if released from its earthly bonds. But the memory of that harrowing experience will forever reside in my mind, a reminder that the line between the living and the dead is more tenuous than we could ever imagine.


About the Creator

PraiseGod Williams

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