The abandoned house story

Chapter 1: The Invitation

It was the last house on Ridge Road, a place everyone in town knew about but few dared to visit. Ivy and moss crept up the walls, and shattered windows looked like empty, watchful eyes. It had stood empty for as long as anyone could remember. Some said the house had a dark history; others whispered it was cursed.

Emma, a college student on break, had always been curious. She had grown up hearing stories about the house—the strange lights seen at night, the ghostly figure of a woman wandering the halls, and the whispers people claimed they could hear even from the street. Her friends were staying with her for the weekend, and on a dare, they all decided to spend one night in the house, just to see if the stories were true.

Chapter 2: The First Night

They arrived at dusk, armed with flashlights, sleeping bags, and a camera. Inside, the house was cold, with a stillness that felt unnatural, like the air had been held there for too long. Dust floated in thick layers, undisturbed for decades, covering furniture, picture frames, and mirrors that seemed to reflect only shadows.

They wandered from room to room, inspecting the eerie, worn wallpaper and the faded family portraits. One of Emma’s friends, Liam, noticed something odd: each portrait's face was scratched out, as if someone had clawed at the canvases in rage or despair.

In the parlor, they found a grand, broken piano. The keys were dusty and cracked, but as Emma ran her fingers over them, a single, chilling note echoed through the house, even though she hadn’t pressed any keys. It seemed like a warning.

Chapter 3: The Whispering Walls

As night fell, strange things began to happen. The wind outside rose, making the old shutters rattle, but it was the sound inside that unnerved them. A soft, murmuring voice seemed to come from the walls, too quiet to understand but loud enough to make the hairs on the back of their necks stand up.

They huddled together, their flashlights flickering in the darkness. Emma’s friend Sarah suggested they leave, but when they tried the front door, it wouldn’t budge. They were trapped.

Suddenly, the voice grew louder. It seemed to be coming from upstairs, so they followed it to a room at the end of the hall, where the door was slightly ajar. Inside, they found an old rocking chair, gently swaying as though someone had just been sitting there. And on the floor was a journal, its pages yellowed with age.

Chapter 4: The Journal

Emma opened the journal, her hands shaking. The entries were dated from over a century ago, written by a woman named Margaret. Margaret described her loneliness in the house after her husband left for war. Over time, her writing grew darker, mentioning shadows she saw creeping along the walls, whispers that told her secrets, and dreams where the house showed her terrible things.

The final entry was smeared with ink, the writing frantic: “The house is alive. It wants company. It won’t let me leave.”

At that moment, the door slammed shut behind them, and they heard footsteps creaking down the hall outside. Panic set in as they realized they weren’t alone.

Chapter 5: The Woman in the Mirror

In the hallway, Emma noticed an old, cracked mirror hanging on the wall. As she looked closer, she gasped—there, in the mirror, was the faint outline of a woman’s face staring back at her. Her skin was pale, her eyes dark and hollow, and her mouth was open as though she were screaming, yet no sound escaped.

Emma stumbled back, and the woman’s face seemed to grow angrier, her eyes following Emma’s every move. Then, as if the woman had control over the house itself, the floorboards began to creak, and walls seemed to close in around them

Chapter 6: Escape

The group scrambled down the stairs, desperately searching for another way out. They could feel the house shifting around them, the shadows growing darker and colder. Liam spotted a door to the basement, and they rushed toward it, hoping it would lead outside. But in the basement, they found an old iron gate, chained and locked.

That’s when they heard the voice again, louder this time, filled with anger and sorrow. “Stay with me… stay forever.”

Desperate, Emma grabbed a rusty shovel from the corner and used it to pry open a small, boarded-up window. One by one, they crawled through, finally escaping into the cold night air.

Epilogue

The next morning, they returned to the house with the police. But when they went inside, the house looked different—empty, dust-free, as if it had never been lived in. There was no sign of the journal, no broken furniture, no scratched portraits. Just an empty, silent house.

Later, as Emma and her friends talked about the night, they realized something chilling: in every picture they had taken, there was a shadowy figure standing behind them, watching. It was Margaret, the forgotten spirit of the house, who had spent decades waiting for someone to listen to her story—and maybe, to keep her company forever.