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Adult Horror Stories to Relax / Sleep | With Rain Sounds | Vol. 3
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Jun 5, 2025
Adult Horror Stories to Relax / Sleep | with Rain Sound @Cryptid-Stories Prepare for a spine-chilling night with our adult horror stories designed to keep you on edge as you drift into sleep. This video combines eerie tales with soothing rain sounds, creating the perfect blend of terror and tranquility. Whether you're a horror aficionado or just looking for an unsettling backdrop for your rest, these terrifying tales will make your night unforgettable. Hit play, let the rain soothe you, and immerse yourself in a world of frightful fiction. Remember, it’s all in good fun—sleep tight! Thanks For Watching & Please subscribe to our channel to Such Spooky Tales #horrorstories #cryptidstories #nighttimehorror
View Video Transcript
0:00
welcome back to the Crypted Stories it's time to start our terrifying tales and
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trust me you won't forget this one the night was thick with the scent of pine
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and something else something old and musty and buried for too long jared
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walked along the narrow dirt path his flashlight flickering in and out like it was scared too he had heard the stories
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of course he had heard the stories of course everyone had but they were stories meant to keep kids from
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wandering too far into the woods meant to keep them in bed at night meant to keep them safe he wasn't a kid anymore
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though and he had something to prove he was going to find the house the one they
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said was never really there that appeared only to those who needed it most or perhaps least depending on who
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told the tale he stepped over a fallen branch his foot squishing into the soft damp earth and continued on the trees
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leaning closer now as if eavesdropping on his thoughts he kept going ignoring
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the way the air felt thicker colder the deeper he went until at last the trees broke and there it was it didn't make
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sense it never had the house was too large too grand to exist out here its
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shingles black as coal its windows tall and narrow and lined with heavy curtains
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that moved even though there was no wind jared hesitated just a moment before
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stepping onto the rotting porch the boards groaning under his weight the door opened within a soft creek as
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though it had been expecting him inside the air was even colder and the smell
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stronger sweet rod and old firewood he moved through the foyer his light catching on dust moes that seemed to
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hang still like frozen insects the walls were lined with portraits but the faces
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were all wrong their eyes too deep their smiles stretched too wide the staircase
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loomed to his left spiraling up into darkness but he didn't go that way not
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yet instead he wandered the ground floor each room a little colder a little
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darker a little more wrong in the parlor the fireplace was lit though there was
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no wood no flame only a soft pulsing glow like the embers of something long
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dead he felt eyes on him not the portrait something else he turned
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quickly nothing then again and still nothing he told himself it was just
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nerves the stories getting to him he was fine he was alone he was not alone in
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the dining room the table was set for a feast plates of food steaming gently
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though the meat was sw and the fruit too shiny the utensils glittered in the candle light and the chairs were all
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pulled out like the guests had just stepped away for a moment he reached for a glass his fingers brushing the rim and
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then the lights went out a flashlight dead air silent so silent it rang in his
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ears and then the creaking started upstairs slow at first one step then
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another something descending he couldn't see but he could hear it feel it each step sending a tremor through the floor
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through the floor through the floor his feet into his bones he backed away into the hall the stairs now in view but
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nothing on them still while the sound came closer as if something invisible and heavy moved toward him he turned to
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run and the door slammed shut behind him he was trapped the thing was still coming and he had nowhere to go he
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ducked into a nearby room slamming the door behind him and pressing his back to
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it he heard it past the dragging scrape of something along the floor the soft
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thump thump of weight being shifted then silence again he waited not daring to
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breathe then he heard a whisper soft and close and it said his name jared jared
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he ran he burst from the room and made for the stairs because where else could he go the ground floor had turned
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against him he climbed two steps three and then the whisper came again louder
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this time Jared don jared delong he kept going the walls pulsing around him like
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the house was breathing alive aware and hungry the upstairs hallway stretched
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too far longer than the outside of the house could allow doors lined both sides
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identical and endless he picked one and entered the room inside was a mirror and
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in the mirror was him and not him the reflection smiled though he did not its eyes bottomless it raised a hand and
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Jared watched as his own hand rose to match it though he didn't move to lift
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it his reflection spoke with his voice and said "You came back Jared," said "No
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this is my first time." And the reflection laughed and said "You say that every time." And then the mirror
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shattered and the shards floated in the air reflecting countless Jareds all
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screaming all reaching out he backed away into the hall and the door slammed
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shut behind him again he tried another door in another each room worse than the
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last in one he saw himself as a child crying in the corner surrounded by
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whispers in another he saw a version of his parents sitting at a table unmoving
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faces slack eyes gone and in another he saw nothing just darkness that pulled at
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him reaching with invisible hands trying to drag him in he was sweating now though the air was cold he was shaking
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though nothing had touched him yet he knew he was being watched followed
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studied and every time he turned the hallway had changed walls closer or
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farther doors missing or new he saw a staircase at the end and ran for it this
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one went down down into the bowels of the house into the place beneath where things that should not be were kept the
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air was thick like syrup the air was thick like syrupy walls damp and soft
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the smell now unbearable rot and metal and something burning he reached the
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bottom and saw a room filled with candles each one flickering with a strange blue flame in the center a
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figure tall thin draped in cloth that ried like it was alive the figure turned
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and Jared saw no face just a mask smooth and blank and the voice came from
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everywhere saying "Welcome home," Jared said "this isn't my home." And the voice
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laughed and said "It will be." And the candles flared and he felt his feet move
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without will his body walking forward arms rising the figure lifting a hand in
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greeting or command he screamed but no sound came the house swallowed it like
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it swallowed everything and then he was outside on the porch in daylight birds
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chirping breeze gentle trees swaying he turned and the house was gone not
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crumbled not burned just gone he walked back to town in silence no one noticed
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he had been gone no one mentioned it but every time he passed a mirror he saw the wrong reflection smiling with eyes that
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were not his waiting for the house to return waiting for him to return story
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number two the rain had been falling for days a steady unrelenting curtain that
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turned roads to rivers and fields to swamps and still it gou a cold
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breathless downpour that made the town feel buried alive beneath gray skies and
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muddied silence harper had always loved storms but this one felt different like
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something had been waiting for the right weather to crawl free from whatever place it had been hiding she lived at
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the edge of town near the old woods the ones with trees too tall too close
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together where birds stopped singing and compasses spun like drunkards her house
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creaked with every gust her windows stre with rain and something else she thought
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smears that she had not left shapes too vague to make out and too perfect to be
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mistakes she watched them each morning but they always vanished before she could trace them then the power went out
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first lights then the heat and finally her phone no signal no sound only the
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drumming of rain and the heartbeat of something deeper something inside the house she had not invited it in but she
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had felt it coming felt it watching when she passed a hallway mirror or stood too
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long near the attic door which had begun to open by itself a crack at first then
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wider each night until she could see the black nothing inside smell the dust and damp and the faint copper tang of
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something not quite dead she told herself it was old wood old hinges but
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in the night she heard footsteps above soft careful deliberate pacing that
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never ended never rested just moved from one side of the house to the other and
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back again she tried calling for help once climbing the hill behind her house hoping to catch a signal in the open she
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raised her phone to the sky and for a second she saw bars full and strong but
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when she dialed no one answered and then the signal died again and when she
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looked around she realized the trees had moved closer trees that had always stayed behind the fence now loomed just
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feet away trunks slick with rain bark twisted like clenched fists and she ran
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not from what she saw but what she felt that something in those woods was watching not the trees themselves but
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what hid among them waiting for the storm to bury the town completely that night she slept with her flashlight but
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it flickered as soon as she turned it on and the footsteps in the attic grew faster not louder just quicker like
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something pacing in anticipation the attic door creaked open just a bit more
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she blocked it with a chair but the next morning the chair was across the room
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and the door wide open the mirror in the hallway showed her reflection but the eyes were wrong too dark too still and
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when she blinked the reflection did not she covered it with a sheet but it blew
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away even though the windows were shut tight the next day she found writing on the wall not written carved deep into
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the wood behind her bed it said "I remember you." The letters jagged
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slanted like made with a nail or claw she ran her fingers over them and the wood felt warm pulsing like flesh she
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wanted to leave but the roads were gone not flooded gone the bridge outside town
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had vanished no trace no wreckage no warning just trees where there should
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have been a road and she realized the map of the town was changing shrinking
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folding in on itself and her house was at the center the heart she lit candles
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that night puddled in the kitchen and waited for morning but the sun never rose the clock ticked and talked but the
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sky stayed black the rain heavier the air thicker her breath fogged in the
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cold and then stopped fogging altogether like the air no longer welcomed it like
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she was no longer alive she moved through the house as the hours stretched beyond day and night the attic door now
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done just a hole in the ceiling the smell stronger the sounds louder
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scratching not pacing scratching like something that trying to dig down not out but into her she began to see things
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things that might have always been there long fingers reaching around doorways
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shadows that lingered too long whispers beneath the dripping rain one said her
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name in her own voice another sang a lullaby she had never learned and still
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another told her to look behind her she never did not once she spoke aloud to herself often to drown them out reciting
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old songs old stories until her voice cracked and the silence took her but
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again then came the knocking not at the door but inside the walls soft at first
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like mice then heavier more rhythmic like breathing against the plaster like
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a second heartbeat beneath her own then came the crawling inside the fireplace inside the fireplace inside the stove
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under the sink things she never saw just glimpsed in puddles and reflections thin
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pale limbs long eyes that did not blink she stopped eating stopped sleeping the
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food turned black the water brown and the storm would not end she tried to
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leave once packing her bag walking out the door and straight into the woods
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woods that should have been behind her now wrapped around the house no sky
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above just leaves and branches like ribs she walked for hours maybe days until
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she came upon her house again not a house anymore but a thing wearing her
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house bones bent walls breathing the windows like eyes watching she had no
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choice but to enter and when she did it welcomed her the door opened wide and
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the floor warm underfoot and she knew she was inside something alive something
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ancient something that remembered her like the wall had said remembered her from before from a time she did not know
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but had never truly forgotten she lived now in corners in cracks listening
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whispering feeding house with breath and fear and memory others would come
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eventually as the storm grew and spread drawn by the stories drawn by the
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wrongness they would find the same smears on glass the same steps overhead
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the same hole in the ceiling they would look into the mirror and see not themselves but are smiling now waiting
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because the house is always hungry and it never forgets story number three the
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fog rolled in just after midnight thick and silent a blanket that swallowed
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covering the streets of the old town like a hand over a mouth quieting everything beneath it eli stood on the
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porch watching it slink through the trees and across the fields until it reached his front step and stopped like
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it was waiting like it hadn't found what it came for he lived alone always had
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the last house on Hollow Creek Road just past the old iron bridge that moaned when you crossed it even on dry days
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even when the wind was still he had no neighbors not anymore not since the old Grady house burned down and the barns
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along the ridge collapsed and the Willow family moved after the accident their
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house still stood but the windows were black and something knocked on the walls
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when no one was there he remembered those knocks he heard in him every now and then when the wind was wrong and the
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moon refused to rise but the fog was new at least new in how it behaved it clung
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to the ground then rose like breath from the earth itself turning trees into
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ghosts and shadows into holes and shadows into holes as he stepped off the porch he felt it touch him cold and wet
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and wrong like being brushed by fingers that were not there he heard a sound
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then not a loud one just a whisper just his name soft and slow and long like
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someone dragging their voice through molasses he turned but saw nothing just
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the fog and the outline of the trees just the gravel path he had walked a thousand times and now felt unfamiliar
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like it shifted beneath him like it wanted him to turn back but he didn't eli was was stubborn he had always been
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stubborn that's what they said when he didn't sell the house when the town started emptying when the power went out
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more than it stayed on and the water turned brown and then stopped altogether
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they said "Eli you're a fool you're staying and Eli it isn't safe anymore."
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And Eli something ain't right up there but he stayed because the house was his and the land was his and the silence was
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his too until the silence started whispering back he walked down the path now down into house the fog listening
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for the sound again the voice but it didn't come back just the crunch of
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gravel and the thudding of his own heart then a creek from the woods to the left
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just once like a swing on old chains and he looked and there it was a swing and
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hanging from a tree that had never had a branch low enough for one before and it moved slow back and forth like a child
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had just jumped off it and run into the dark he didn't stop he wouldn't not yet
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not until he saw where the fog ended and where it began if it ended at all the road twisted toward the creek and he
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followed it his lantern weak and flickering not from the wind there was
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no wind but from something else some weight in the air like the fog was drinking the light and he saw things the
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light and he saw things inside at shapes maybe animals maybe not a figure that
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looked like a man hunched and tall watching from beneath a hood or maybe it was just a trick of the fog a shadow on
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a branch a root across the road but the shapes kept pace with him always just at
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the edge never closer never farther and always watching he reached the bridge
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and stopped because it was gone not destroyed not collapsed just gone in its
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place a flat expanse of stone smooth and black and wet with carvings he didn't
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recognize it symbols that turned in place when he wasn't looking twisting into different shapes when he blinked
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and he heard the voice again this time behind him but closer and it said "Go
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back Eli go back now." And he turned but the road was gone too replaced by trees
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and brambles and fog like the whole world had shifted like he had stepped through something or been stepped over
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and he was somewhere else entirely he stepped onto the stone and it held him
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cold and solid and humming underfoot the sound deep like a drum like something
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alive and breathing beneath it and with each step the humming grew louder until
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it was all he could hear louder than the rain that wasn't falling louder than the
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wind that wasn't blowing louder than his own breath then the fog parted not ahead
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but above revealing a circle in the sky a hole a wound where stars should be and
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reflection in a place where mirrors didn't belong a version of him standing at the center of the bridge watching him
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come closer and smiling with a mouth full of too many teeth he tried to stop
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but his feet moved without him across the last steps but his feet moved without him across the last steps and
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toward himself and the other eli reached out and touched him and the fog
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swallowed everything and he was falling not down but inward into a memory that
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wasn't his a place that had never been but always would be a forest burning beneath black but always would be a
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forest burning beneath black snow a tower of bone reaching into a screaming
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sky a room full of clocks all ticking backward and a door that opened not to
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outside but to inside and something stepped through something that wore Ellie's face and his voice and his name
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but was not him and it whispered "You were always meant to be me." And he
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screamed and the scream came out as silence and the silence filled the world
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and then he was standing in his house again no rain no fog just quiet and the
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mirror showed nothing now just the room behind him and nothing else and his shadow no longer matched his movements
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it waited a second then followed and he knew it was still here the thing he had
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met the thing he had always been meant to become and the fog would come again
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and the fog would come again and the bridge would appear and someone else would hear the whisper and follow the
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path because the path was always there waiting and the voice would always call
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and the face in the fog would always smile town only once a month no one knew
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where it came from no one knew where it went but it always stopped at the same time in the same place by the old
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station that had burned down 50 years ago the tracks were rusted over grass
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grew between the rails grew between the rail and still the train arrived gleaming black with gold trim silent and
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still as a hearse the people who boarded it were never seen again they didn't run
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they didn't scream they just walked up to the open door and stepped inside calm
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eyes wide and empty like something had been pulled out of them or maybe
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something had been put in one evening just before the train was due harlon stood by the platform watching the
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horizon the sun bleeding orange through the clouds and the air tasting like a
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copper like blood and iron and old secrets his father had boarded the train
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20 years ago his sister 5 years after that and now it was his turn he didn't
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know how he knew he just did the way birds know to fly south or how wolves know when to how the feeling had started
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a week ago a low humming in his bones dreams of long tunnels filled with
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whispers and eyes and the sound of a train coming closer and closer he hadn't
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told anyone there was no one left to tell the town was almost empty now houses collapsed stores boarded up the
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church bell rusted to silence the only thing that still worked was the clock by
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the station and it always struck midnight when the train appeared Haron
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lit a cigarette and waited his fingers shaking slightly though he didn't feel
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afraid not exactly just hollow like he'd already left his body and was only
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watching what would come next the rails began to hum not loud but steady a
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vibration that moved up through the ground and into his legs his spine his
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teeth the wind picked up though the leaves didn't move and the light from
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the setting sun bent in a way light shimmed like it was being pulled stretched like fabric a sound came next
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the distant whale of the engine low and mournful a whale song or a cry through a cave and then the train appeared not
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from the trees not from a tunnel just appeared black and long and silent steam
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drifting from beneath like smoke from a grave it stopped without sound without
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motion like it had had always been there and only now was being seen the door
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opened and inside was darkness not the kind found at night but something
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thicker like oil like a mouth waiting to close around him haron stepped forward
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and a figure appeared in the doorway tall dressed in a conductor's uniform
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but the face was all wrong smooth and featureless except for the eyes wide and
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shining and wrong they didn't blink didn't move just watched him with a hunger that felt familiar the figure
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didn't speak but Harlon heard the words in his head clear and sharp ticket "please," he held out his hand though he
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had nothing in it and somehow a ticket was there old and yellowed and warm like
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it had just been printed or had been inside him all along the figure took it
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nodded and stepped aside and Harlon walked into the dark the door closed
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behind him and the world outside vanished like mist the inside of the train was impossible endless rows of
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seats that stretched too far flickering lights overhead shadows that moved on
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their own and soft music playing from nowhere a tune he half remembered from a dream or a lullabi his mother used to
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sing each car he passed was different one filled with mirrors that didn't
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reflect him another with sand up to his knees and stars in the ceiling like a
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sky he'd never seen another with faces pressed into the walls mouths open as if
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screaming but no sound coming out he passed them all because something inside
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him said he had to keep moving that stopping the meant being part of the train forever a piece in its puzzle a
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voice among its whispers he reached a car that was quiet still different from the others it looked like his childhood
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home same wallpaper same table same broken clock on the wall mother sat at
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the table staring into a cup of black coffee that never steamed he looked up
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and his eyes were glass empty sockets filled with light and he said "You came
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and Harlon tried to speak but his mouth didn't move he sat down across from the
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man who had once been his father and waited the way he had waited as a child for answers that never came the room
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melted then into another car this one filled with books all open pages turning
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in wind that didn't blow in each book held a piece of his life things he
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remembered things he didn't things that hadn't happened yet he saw himself older
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alone dead alive screaming smiling all
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versions at once and then the train lurched for the first time and he fell
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against the wall when he looked up he saw the window and outside was not sky
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not land but eyes thousands of eyes watching the train from the dark some
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blinking some crying some wide with glee and he understood then that the train
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didn't go to a place a state a moment stretched forever it carried those who
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had seen too much or not enough who had opened doors they shouldn't or closed
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ones they should have left a jar and it showed them what they were and what they
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would be and what they could never escape he ran then not because he was
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afraid but because he saw a car at the end that was glowing and he felt if he
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reached it he might understand he passed more cars more lives people he had
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forgotten and people he had never known all staring at him as he passed all
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whispering his name the final car was round filled with light soft and golden
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and warm and in the center was a bed and on the bed was him not asleep not awake
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just waiting and the moment he touched the body he understood he had never been
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real or maybe he had been real too many times in too many places and this was
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the last time the train was not a train it was a loop a circuit a way for the
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universe to clean its teeth and sharpen its knives and he had ridden it before
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and he had ridden it before and he would ride it again and again until something broke and then the world would change
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and the train would no longer be needed or it would be needed even more he lay down on the bed and the lights went out
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and the train vanished and the platform was empty again just the rusted rails
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and the silent clock ticking toward the next arrival story number five it
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started with the sound of scratching just under the floorboards just faint at first like nails tapping then sharper
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longer like claws and Cameron thought maybe it was a raccoon or a rat or
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something worse but when he looked there was nothing there not even a crawl space just solid wood and cold air and the
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scratching only came at night only when the lights were off and the room was were off and the room was silent the
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house had been empty for years before he moved in a relic from the 1800s all narrow staircases and
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wallpaper like rotting skin and doorork knobs that turn themselves sometimes slowly as if asking permission and he
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told himself it was just old wood settling just drafts just imagination
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until the dreams began in them he was in the house but not as it was now but as
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it had been a 100 years ago full of people all dressed in black morning clothes heads bowed whispers clinging to
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the walls and someone always watching from the top of the stairs a girl maybe 12 with long hair covering her face
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wearing a white dress stained with something dark and she never moved just stood and watched as if waiting for him
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to see her and when he woke the scratching was louder closer sometimes
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just beneath the bed sometimes inside the walls he tried to ignore it buried
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himself in work kept lights on all night but then the lights began to flicker the
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bulbs blackening by one and his phone would not hold a charge and his watch
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stopped at 213 every day and always the same dream the
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same girl in one night she spoke not in the dream but in the room her voice thin
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and drier like paper tearing and she said "Why are you in my house?" And he
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sat up frozen the air thick and heavy and the room darker than it should have
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been and when he turned on the lamp he saw footprints on the floor small wet
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prints leading from the wall to the bed and then back again he left the house
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that night stayed in his car parked at the edge of town and in the rearview mirror he saw her watching from the
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upstairs window her face still hidden her dress still stained and he drove
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away but the roads stretched wrong looping turning always but the leading
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back to the house no matter which direction he took until dawn when the sun burned the mist away and he was back
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in his driveway exhausted and cold and hollow he researched the property found
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nothing at first just vague rumors stories of disappearances a missing family a sealed
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basement a fire that never made the papers then deeper digging through old
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files forgotten archives he found a named Sarah White aged 12 died in 1903
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cause unknown body never recovered last seen in the house after her parents were found hanging in the parlor side by side
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hands tied together and the floor soaked with blood and the report said they
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smiled even in death and the house was condemned then but someone kept buying
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it someone always kept buying it and then selling it within months and no one
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stayed no one ever stayed and Cameron knew why now he saw her everywhere in
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reflections in windows in the dark between blinks and once he saw her in
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the mirror standing behind him so close i could feel her breath but when he
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turned nothing was there and the lights went out and the scratching returned
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louder than ever and then the voices came not just hers but others deeper
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angrier calling his name accusing cursing warning and he felt them in the
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walls in the floor in the ceiling watching always watching and he tried to
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leave packed everything drove until the fuel gauge hit empty but the road turned
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back and the house was there like it had been hungry without him he went back
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because he had no choice because something in him was tied to it now and when he stepped inside the door
33:52
closed by itself and he heard the lock turn and the scratching started again
33:57
and the house exhaled and he screamed but no sound came out and his vision
34:03
swam and he fell and when he woke it was night again and she was at the foot of
34:09
the bed whispering "Please help me!" over and over until her voice turned
34:14
into a growl and her face peeled away revealing a mouthful of teeth and eyes like burnt holes and she climbed onto
34:22
the bed and crawled over him and he could not move and she whispered deeper
34:27
this time come see what they did come see what they hid and the floor beneath
34:34
the bed opened like a mouth and he fell into it into a room he had never seen
34:39
with walls lined with crosses all upside down and the smell of rot so thick it
34:46
clung to his lungs and in the corner the bodies of her parents still hanging eyes
34:52
open heads tilted in a way that bones should not allow and she was there again
34:58
younger this time whole and she pointed to a book on the floor bound in skin and
35:03
covered in symbols that shifted when he looked and she said "This is how they
35:09
kept me this is how they fed me." And he picked up the book and felt something
35:14
inside him crack like a door opening and he knew things then things he should not
35:20
know the names of shadows the taste of screams the paths between dreams and
35:26
death and the book burned in his hands and the book burned in his hands fire
35:32
did not hurt and when he woke he was back in his bed but the walls were bleeding and the ceiling was crawling
35:39
and she stood in the doorway smiling now and she said "You opened it now you are
35:45
mine." And he could not speak could not move only screamed silently as the house
35:51
closed around him tighter until there was no light no sound no time and now
35:57
when people drive by they see lights in the windows faces in the curtains and
36:03
sometimes they hear scratching just under the floorboards and sometimes they see a man in the upstairs window
36:10
screaming with no mouth and a girl in white watching from behind him always
36:15
watching story number six mara had always known something was wrong with the house it was not the creeks in the
36:22
floor or the house it was not the creeks in the floor or the drafts that moved against the wind it was the way the
36:30
shadows never quite match the shapes that cast them the way doors opened just
36:35
a little wider when her back was turned the way the mirrors always seemed to hold on to her reflection just a
36:42
heartbeat too long she moved in after her grandmother died inheriting the
36:47
place with its crooked shingles and ivy choked walls everyone in town said it was cursed they whispered about the
36:54
things that happened there the disappearances the voices in the night
37:00
but no one ever said it directly just glanced at each other with tight smiles
37:05
and moved the conversation along mara did not believe in curses she believed
37:11
in loneliness and grief in the quiet ache of empty rooms she unpacked her
37:16
boxes lying from the shelves with books and tried to ignore the way the hallway
37:22
always seemed longer when the lights were off the first week was fine just
37:27
noises just flickering bulbs just dreams of whispers she could not remember when
37:32
she woke the second week the second week the dreams became more vivid someone
37:38
walking down the hall someone standing at the foot of her bed someone knocking
37:43
softly from inside the wardrobe she kept the light on after that but it did not
37:48
help the knocking continued every night at the same time 3:33 soft three sharp and one long like
37:56
a code she refused to answer it refused to open the wardrobe even though each
38:02
morning it stood slightly a jar no matter how tightly she had shut it the night before one night she placed a
38:09
chair in front of it stacked with books but in the morning the chair was across the room and the books were gone and her
38:17
hands smelled of dust and iron and something else something sweet and rotting and familiar the third week the
38:24
house began to speak no with words not at first but with pulses of sound like heartbeats through the walls like
38:31
breathing through the pipes she would sit in the kitchen and feel it in her chest the rhythm too slow too deep to be
38:38
hers and the mirrors began to change not her core reflection anymore but someone
38:44
else someone with her face but older thinner smiling always smiling and not
38:51
blinking not moving when she moved it watched her with eyes too dark too deep
38:57
and she covered all the mirrors with sheets but still she saw she saw herself in the window in the spoon in the dark
39:04
screen of the TV her face not her face always smiling always still then came
39:11
the music old music scratchy like from a record player echoing from the attic
39:17
where no record player had ever been she climbed the stairs one night lantern in
39:22
hand heart hammering and opened the attic door and the music stopped the
39:27
moment she looked inside the room was empty just dust and boxes and the faint
39:33
scent of lavender and fire she closed the door and heard laughter behind her light soft like a child she turned but
39:41
saw nothing only her own shadow stretching too long too thin along the hallway wall and then she saw the
39:48
writing on the floor letters carved into the wood beneath her feet words that
39:54
reads she is still here she tried to scrub them away but the wood bled beneath her hands and the letters only
40:00
grew darker more jagged the fourth week she stopped sleeping the house would not
40:05
let her the walls whispered her name the faucets dripped blood the floorboards
40:11
shifted under invisible weight she saw her grandmother in the hallway saw her
40:16
eyes black and mouth open too wide saw her floating an inch above the floor
40:22
pointing toward the floor pointing toward the wardrobe she had not opened
40:28
in days she begged it to stop and pleaded with the house with the mirrors with the voice in her head that was no
40:35
longer hers and the house listened it grew silent still for one night she
40:41
slept and dreamed of fire of screaming of laughter and when she woke the sheets
40:46
were soaked her arms were scratched with words she could not read symbols that
40:51
burned beneath her skin the final week the house began to feed on her she felt
40:57
it in the way her vision dimmed in the way her thoughts scattered in the way her breath fogged the mirror even when
41:05
the room was cold and empty she stopped eating the food tasted of ash and metal
41:11
she stopped calling friends her phone only rang at 3:33 and the voice on the
41:16
other end only breathed she tried to run but the doors would not open the windows
41:22
showed no world beyond the glass just darkness just eyes she tried to burn it
41:27
down lit matches dropped candles the fire flared then vanished swallowed by
41:35
the walls and the house left a low groan that made the floor tremble and the
41:41
pictures fall and the wardrobe open wide inside was not wood and dust but stairs
41:47
stone steps descending into a place that should not exist that could not exist and she knew then that the house had
41:53
never been in a house not really it had always it had always been a mouth a
41:59
hunger a memory that needed to be fed and she had come like all the others and
42:05
the stairs called her down down into the dark into the cold and the music played again the same tune slower now deeper
42:14
now and the reflection followed her not in glass not in water but in shadow and
42:20
whisper in blood and the last thing she saw before the door closed behind her
42:26
was the mirror in the hall her face now smiling eyes still and waiting for the next visitor story number seven they
42:33
told Nathan for the next visitor story not to go into the tunnels not because of any law or warning sign but because
42:40
everyone knew what happened down there and no one talked about it not really
42:46
just sideways glances and halves that fell over the room when someone brought
42:51
it up the old mining tunnels outside town had been sealed for decades ever since the collapse ever since 37 men
42:58
vanished without a sound or scream or any trace left behind and the company
43:04
said it was gas or a cave in or sabotage
43:09
but the family said no they heard something different in the echoes something like singing and no one ever
43:16
found the bodies just tools and hats and blood but Nate was curious and bored and
43:21
angry at a world that hadn't done him any favors and so when he found the gap in the fencing and the broken lock in
43:27
the dark mouth of the mine he stepped in without a second thought flashlight in
43:33
hand breath shallow against the cold he expected dust rocks old timbers creaking
43:40
and groaning but what he got was silence thick and pressing like a blanket held
43:46
too tight over the mouth of the world no rats no wind just the sound of his own
43:51
footsteps and the drip of unseen water and after a few minutes even that faded
43:56
like the mine was swallowing sound the air was heavy and wet and it tasted like
44:02
rust and earth and something else something sweet like rotting fruit or
44:08
breath from a mouth that hadn't opened in years he moved deeper light
44:13
flickering bouncing off the walls shadows shifting too a fast too wide for
44:18
one man and he told himself it was nothing just nerves just tricks of the
44:24
dark but the deeper he went the colder it got natural cold not like being
44:30
outside in winter but something worse something that crawled into the bones and pressed against the heart and made
44:37
the mind slow and sluggish and then he saw the first one standing at the edge
44:42
of the tunnel unmoving a man or what used to be a man face hidden under a
44:48
helmet clothes torn black and soaked in something that gleamed in the light and
44:54
Nate called out "Hey you okay?" And the thing turned slowly like it was
45:00
remembering how to move and the light caught its face and there was nothing there no eyes no mouth just smooth pale
45:08
skin like wax melted and set wrong and it set wrong reached out not fast not
45:15
aggressive just a gesture like it wanted to touch him and Nate ran deeper because
45:21
behind him the tunnel was gone replaced by a wall solid and cold and unmoving
45:28
and his footsteps didn't echo anymore and the walls began to close and tighter
45:33
and tighter until he had to crouch to keep moving and the flashlight began to dim not from batteries but from the dark
45:41
itself a thick tarlike fog that ate the light and made everything hum and the sound was rising now beneath his feet
45:48
and in the air in his ears a low deep voice not words not a language but a
45:55
tone like a song meant for something ancient something hungry and Nate stumbled into a chamber wide and round
46:03
into the rock and around it were the missing men or what was left of them
46:09
their bodies bent into shapes that broke bones their mouths open wide in silent
46:14
scream and their eyes all looking down into the hole and Nate followed their
46:19
gaze and sawed their gaze and nothing not black not shadow just nothing and
46:27
the moment he saw it he felt it feel him back a pressure on his chest a weight on
46:33
his soul and he couldn't look away couldn't blink couldn't breathe and
46:38
something began to rise out of the hole not fast not slow just certain and it
46:44
was made of hands and teeth and eyes all turning blinking grasping and it sang to
46:50
him without a mouth a song of dirt and death and forgetting and he knew then
46:57
what had happened to the men they hadn't been taken invited they had stepped
47:02
willingly into the mouth of something older than time and deeper than fear and
47:07
now it was his turn he backed away but the floor was slick and he fell and the
47:14
thing moved faster then sensing weakness stretching itself toward him pulling
47:19
itself into the light and as it reached for him he screamed and the walls shook
47:25
and the ceiling and cracked and something pulled him up and he was back in the tunnel lying in the dirt his
47:32
flashlight shattered and his skin slick within blood and behind him the chamber
47:37
was gone just stone and rubble and silence and he crawled out blind and
47:43
broken and when he reached the surface the sun was rising and he could hear birds again and he thought maybe he had
47:50
imagined it until he saw the mark on his arm burned into the skin a spiral made of eyes and he knew he hadn't escaped
47:58
not really just been spared for a time and every night since then he hears it singing in the walls of his room in the
48:05
hum of the fridge in the static on the TV calling him back whispering "Come see
48:11
what waits come see what you left." And he knows someday he will listen story
48:17
number eight jordan never believed in curses or ghosts or any of the stories
48:23
his grandmother used to tell him by the fire about the tree house at the edge of the lake the one hidden behind the birch
48:30
trees where no birds sang and no animals ever went and where the air always
48:36
smelled faintly of ash even though there had been no fires in the area for generations he thought it was all just
48:43
superstition just old stories meant to keep kids from wandering too far but then one summer when he was 23 and
48:51
desperate for something to change in his life he went back to that town the one he left as a teenager after the accident
48:57
and he found himself walking the trail behind the old mill the one that led through the woods and past the water and
49:05
he told himself he just wanted to see if the place still existed if the story still lived in the corners of the trees
49:11
and the shadows of the leaves and the closer he got the more he noticed that the forest around him had gone silent no
49:19
rustle no chirping just the crunch of his boots and the thudding of his
49:24
heartbeat in his ears and the lake when he saw it was still to still like the water wasn't water at all but glass or
49:32
something worse and the house was there just like she said half sunk in the
49:37
earth wrapped in vines roof sagging windows dark and empty and something
49:43
about it pulled at him not like curiosity more like gravity like
49:49
something inside was reaching for him and he stepped off the path and through the tall grass and the closer he got the
49:56
heavier his steps felt like walking through syrup and the air buzzed faintly
50:01
like a whisper just out of reach and when he touched the door the wood was
50:06
warm and soft almost like skin and it opened by itself slow and quiet and
50:14
inside the air was dry and cold and smelled like dust and roses and rot and
50:22
the floorboards groaned under it like they remembered and resented and the hallway stretched longer than it should
50:28
have stretched deeper than the house could possibly be and the wallpaper was peeling in long strips revealing strange
50:36
symbols beneath ones that pulsed slightly as he passed as though breathing and the pictures on the walls
50:44
showed things that could not be people with no faces skies with two moons trees
50:50
that bled and always in the background always half hidden was the same shape a
50:57
tall thin figure with arms too long eyes that were just holes and Jordan felt
51:03
something inside him shift something old and buried a memory that was not his of screens in the night doors that locked
51:11
themselves and hands that came through the mirror and when he reached the staircase it had wound downward not up
51:18
spiraling into dark and echo and he should have turned back should have run
51:23
but he didn't because the house had him now had always had him and each step
51:29
down felt like a year lost like he was aging in reverse and forward all at once
51:35
and when he reached the bottom he was no longer sure how long he had been descending minutes or hours or days and
51:42
the room at the base was round and filled with candles none of them burning but the light was there anyway
51:50
flickering off walls covered in writing not just carved but moving the letters
51:56
crawling along the surface like ants and in the center of the room was a mirror as tall as the ceiling framed in bone
52:03
and vine and behind the glass was not his reflection but a boy maybe 10 years
52:09
old with his eyes and his face and his fear and the boy raised his hand and pointed at Jordan and his mouth opened
52:17
and Jordan felt the scream tear through his chest but make no sound and the mirror cracked and the candles flared
52:24
and the walls began to hum and something came through the door behind him not a
52:30
thing with shape but a presence heavy and cold and filled with hunger and he
52:37
turned and saw it or something like it a tangle of limbs and mouths and eyes each
52:44
one staring and each one staring weeping and it reached for him not with arms but
52:51
with thought and memory and it showed him the house as it was once full of
52:56
people full of laughter full of life before it fed before it learned to open
53:02
itself to those who wandered too far and felt too much and gave too easily and it
53:08
told him that he was always meant to come back that the blood in his veins was tied to its foundation that his
53:14
grandmother had lied and had come here once too and left something behind and
53:20
he was the key the final peace the offering and he ran ran up the stairs
53:26
that had doubled in length each step tearing at his legs and lungs and the house laughed in the walls in the floor
53:33
in his bones and when he reached the top the hallway was gone and the door was gone and all that remained was a room a
53:41
single room with a chair and a book and a mirror and the boy was there again not behind glass but standing before him
53:49
eyes wide hands outstretched and Jordan felt himself unravel not die not
53:54
disappear but become himself unravel not die not disappear something else something older
54:02
something shaped by the house and he screamed again still without sound and
54:08
he reached for the boy not to hurt him not to help him just because there was
54:13
nothing else to do and the moment their hands touched the world went white and silent and then the house was empty
54:20
again still again the wind moved the trees the birds returned and no one ever
54:26
found the house again not even the path not even the lake and people forgot and
54:32
time passed and the story faded until a boy heard something in the woods
54:38
something like a name something like a promise and the story began again story
54:44
number nine darren moved into the farmhouse at the edge of Bell Hollow because the rent was cheap because he
54:51
wanted quiet and because he needed to escape the noise of the city and the ache of memory and the way the world
54:59
seemed to press in on him after what happened he didn't ask why it was so
55:04
cheap he didn't ask about the scorched marks in the wood or the strange black flowers growing in a perfect ring in the
55:10
backyard or the fact that every clock in the house was stuck at 3:11 a.m he just
55:16
took the key and signed the papers and loaded his things into the back of his rusted truck and drove until the city
55:22
was gone until the city was gone and the hills were thick with mist and trees
55:28
leaned close like they wanted to whisper and when he arrived the house seemed to
55:33
watch him not with eyes but with something deeper something old and
55:38
hungry and patient the front door opened with a creek like a breath after
55:43
drowning and the rooms were all colder than they should have been even though it was the middle of July and the light
55:51
through the windows seemed faded like it had traveled too far to still be warm
55:56
and that first night he didn't sleep not because of dreams but because of sound a
56:03
low humming just beneath the floorboards like a voice trying to rise and when he
56:08
pressed his ear to the floor he heard footsteps not pacing but circling slow and deliberate and endless he told
56:15
himself it was the plumbing or old pipes or rodents but the next day when he opened the crawl space he found it
56:22
filled with salt and teeth and something scratched into the beams that wasn't in any language he knew but made his
56:29
stomach twist when he looked too long he started to feel watched not just in the
56:35
house but outside too the woods at the edge of the field seemed to shift each
56:41
time he looked like the trees were closer than before and sometimes at dusk he saw shapes standing just beyond the
56:48
treeine tall and thin and still and always in pairs never alone and when he
56:54
went to investigate they were gone but the grass was crushed in twin circles
57:00
and the air smelled like ozone and earth and old blood at night he began to dream
57:06
not of monsters or shadows but of places that should not exist a staircase that
57:12
went down forever a room with a hundred doors all open a river of hands reaching
57:18
upward from black water and always in the dreams the same figure stood at the
57:23
end of whatever path he took not moving not speaking just watching with eyes
57:29
like hollow stars and each time he woke up the marks on the floor were different more of them and the humming louder and
57:37
the clocks all reset to 3:11 a.m and the birds stopped coming and the bugs
57:44
stopped coming and vanished and the well behind the barn began to weep thick dark
57:50
water that stained his hands and smelled like sorrow he found an old journal
57:56
beneath a loose board in the floor written by someone named Lydia whose handwriting grew more frantic with each
58:03
page she wrote about the watchers in the woods and the mirror man in the basement
58:08
and the way the house changed if you stayed long enough she wrote that time inside the house was different slower
58:15
heavier like the air had weight and the shadows moved even when nothing else did
58:22
and she wrote about how she had to keep the doors locked with chains made from iron and bone and never never never look
58:31
into the mirror in the hallway after midnight because that's when it shows you what's coming tore the mirror from
58:37
the wall the same day and threw it into the woods but it was back the next
58:43
morning clean and whole and humming with that same low note that now lived in his
58:50
bones he called for help once just once but when the line connected all he heard
58:57
was breathing and a voice that sounded like his own but not quite and it said
59:03
"You should not have come back." And then laughed until the lion went dead he
59:08
tried to leave packed a bag got in the truck drove for miles but the road kept
59:15
turning kept bending until he was back at the driveway and the trees were closer and the sky darker and the house
59:22
waiting with all the lights on and the front door open and the air inside
59:28
colder than ice he stayed then because he didn't know what else to do and
59:34
because something told him it was too late to run and the house began to show him things flashes of memories that
59:42
weren't his a woman screaming behind a door a child with no mouth crying in a
59:48
room filled with water a man tearing out his own eyes and whispering "They see
59:55
through me they see through me they see." And the basement door opened on
1:00:00
its own one night and the humming became a song and he went down because
1:00:06
something told him he had to not a voice not a command but a pull like gravity or guilt and the basement was deeper than
1:00:13
it should have been the walls lined with mirrors none reflecting him all showing
1:00:19
something else the woods at night the river of hands the watchers staring and
1:00:25
smiling and in the center a chair made of roots and teeth and in the chair sat
1:00:31
the figure from his dreams tall and hollow and endless and it stood when he entered and raised a hand and said
1:00:37
"Welcome home." And he knew then that he had always been meant to come back that
1:00:42
this was not a place but a door and he had opened it the moment he stepped across the threshold and now it would
1:00:50
not close until it was fed and he felt the mirrors watching and the song rising
1:00:55
and the darkness folding around him like wings or water or fire and he screamed
1:01:03
but the sound bent inward and he fell into the chair and the house breathed
1:01:08
and the lights flickered and outside the woods moved and the watchers stepped
1:01:13
closer and closer and now if you drive past Belle hollow and look just right
1:01:19
through the trees you might see a farmhouse that shouldn't be there and a
1:01:24
man in the window staring back at you with eyes like hollow stars and if you
1:01:30
hear the humming you must never stop never look never follow because the
1:01:35
house is always hungry and now it knows your name story number 10 lucy never
1:01:42
believed in the old stories she heard growing up about the woods behind her
1:01:47
grandmother's house how they were haunted how the trees whispered at night
1:01:52
how people had gone missing in those woods never to return but but she also didn't believe in the fear she felt
1:01:59
whenever she stood on the edge of the forest staring into the thick shadows of the trees that stretched far beyond what
1:02:06
she could see with her eyes and when she was a child her grandmother would warn
1:02:12
her never to wander too far that the woods had a way of pulling you in and
1:02:17
not letting you out but Lucy thought it was just superstition just her grandmother's way of keeping her close
1:02:25
and so as she got older and the house was left to her she thought it would be fine to ignore those warnings to go out
1:02:32
into the woods whenever she felt like it to prove there was nothing to fear in
1:02:37
the first few times she walked the paths around the house she felt nothing not a
1:02:43
thing out of the ordinary just trees and dirt and sunlight filtering through the
1:02:48
leaves but after a while things started to change the air grew thicker as though
1:02:55
something unseen was pressing in around her and the forest began to feel different like it was alive watching her
1:03:02
when she walked deeper into the woods and when she stopped to listen she could swear she heard something moving just
1:03:08
out of sight just behind her and once or twice she thought she saw someone
1:03:13
standing in the distance just barely visible between the trees and each time
1:03:18
she'd turned to look closer and there would be nothing there but a part of her knew that something was watching and the
1:03:26
first time it happened was when she wandered too far when she walked along a path that she didn't recognize and it
1:03:33
was quiet there too quiet and the trees seemed to grow closer together until the
1:03:39
path narrowed and the air went cold and when she turned around to go back she
1:03:45
couldn't find the way she'd come the path had disappeared swallowed up by the thick brush that seemed to rise around
1:03:51
her and she walked in circles for what felt like hours but the woods were changing moving twisting the trees
1:03:59
leaning toward her as though urging her deeper in and as the sun began to set
1:04:05
the light faded in strange ways the shadows grew long and dark and there was
1:04:11
no more sound no birds no wind just silence and in that silence she heard
1:04:19
footsteps behind her slow heavy footsteps like something was following
1:04:25
and when she turned there was nothing but the trees and the darkness closing in and she ran then ran faster than she
1:04:33
ever had before but the woods didn't let her go she could feel them pushing back
1:04:38
against her every step and as she stumbled through the underbrush she saw something ahead something that had been
1:04:45
there clearing bathed in the last light of the setting sun and in the center of the clearing was a tree twisted and
1:04:53
gnarled with black roots that crawled over the ground like snakes and at the base of the tree was a stone and an
1:05:00
altar carved with strange symbols and someone was standing there a figure cloaked in black their face hidden by a
1:05:06
hood but their presence felt all around her heavy suffocating and Lucy wanted to
1:05:12
scream but her voice wouldn't come and the figure turned slowly to face her and
1:05:17
when they spoke their voice was like the sound of wind through dead branches low and ancient and it said "You shouldn't
1:05:24
have come here." And Lucy felt the ground beneath her feet tremble and the figure reached out in the first time
1:05:30
Lucy saw its face and what she saw were eyes too dark to be human a mouth too
1:05:37
wide for any creature to have and a smile that was nothing but teeth and bone and then Lucy felt it something
1:05:44
dark something alive moving inside her chest pushing against her ribs trying to
1:05:50
break free and her body moved against her will towards the figure and it was
1:05:55
no longer her legs that carried her it was the forest the trees moving beneath
1:06:02
her feet pulling her toward the stone and Lucy struggled and Lucy with every
1:06:08
ounce of strength she had but she could not fight it and the figure reached out its hand and touched her forehead and
1:06:15
everything went black and when she woke she was back in her grandmother's house lying in the bed with the covers pulled
1:06:22
tightly around her and for a moment she thought it had all been a nightmare but
1:06:28
something was wrong the air in the room felt heavy and there was a smell in the air like earth and decay and the room
1:06:35
seemed colder than it should have been and Lucy tried to sit up but her body was stiff like it had been asleep for
1:06:41
days and when she looked down at her hands she saw they were covered in dirt
1:06:47
and when she tried to speak her voice caught in her throat and there was a sharp pain in her chest like something
1:06:52
was pressing against her heart and she realized then that she couldn't remember how she'd gotten back to the house how
1:06:59
much time had passed and when she stood up the floor creaked beneath her feet
1:07:05
and she heard something in the distance the faint sound of whispering like voices talking just beyond the walls and
1:07:12
she couldn't tell if it was real or if it was just her mind playing tricks but she felt drawn to the door and when she
1:07:20
opened it she saw the hallway outside but it was different it was longer than
1:07:25
she remembered the wall stretching out of sight and the air was colder here too
1:07:31
and the house felt off like it was no longer the house she'd known but something else something older and she
1:07:37
stepped into the hallway and she stepped into the hallway and walked down the length of it her footsteps echoing too
1:07:44
loudly in the silence and when she reached the end of the hall she saw something that made her blood run cold
1:07:51
at the far end of the hallway was a mirror a tall mirror with an ornate frame and as she approached she saw her
1:07:59
own reflection staring back at her but her reflection was not the same it was
1:08:04
older her face gaunt and pale her eyes hollow and black and her reflection
1:08:10
smiled at her a slow twisted smile that didn't belong to her and Lucy backed
1:08:16
away from the mirror her heart racing and her breath coming in shallow gasps
1:08:22
and she heard something behind her a soft shuffle of footsteps and when she turned around there was nothing there
1:08:29
but the house seemed to be closing in around her but the house seemed to be closing in around her the walls
1:08:34
narrowing the air growing thicker and she tried to run but the door at the end
1:08:40
of the hallway slammed shut with a deafening crash and she couldn't open it
1:08:46
and the whispering started again louder this time coming from all directions and
1:08:51
Lucy fell to her knees in the middle of the hallway and she screamed she screamed for her grandmother for anyone
1:08:59
for help but the sound was swallowed by the darkness and the whispering grew louder until it was all she could hear
1:09:06
all she could feel and as she closed her eyes the last thing she saw was the
1:09:12
shadow of something tall and thin standing in the doorway watching her with those dark empty eyes and she knew
1:09:19
then that she was never getting out of the house that it had already claimed her and that now she belonged to the
1:09:26
forest forever story number 11 michael had always been a skeptic he didn't
1:09:32
believe in ghosts or curses or anything his grandmother used to talk about during their late night dinners by the
1:09:37
fireplace when she would tell him stories about the old house they lived in about the strange noises that echoed
1:09:44
through the walls and the way the floors creaked at odd hours like something was walking just behind him michael always
1:09:51
thought she was exaggerating trying to make the house seem more interesting than it really was and when she passed
1:09:58
away leaving him the house he thought it would be a good opportunity to get away from the city and find some peace of
1:10:06
mind to sort through his life and all the mess he had made so when he packed
1:10:11
his things into the car and drove out to the old estate he thought he would be fine that he would be able to just fix
1:10:18
the place up and move on but the moment he stepped foot inside the house something felt wrong the airy was thick
1:10:26
and stale like it hadn't been disturbed in years and the smell of dust and mildew hung heavy in the rooms as if the
1:10:33
house itself had been waiting for him to return and when he turned on the lights the bulbs flickered and buzzed and it
1:10:40
took a moment for the darkness to recede and for the house to reveal itself the
1:10:45
old wooden floors were covered in grime the walls lined with faded wallpaper
1:10:51
that looked like it had been there for generations the furniture was old and sagging as if it had been been abandoned
1:10:58
long before his grandmother passed and as he explored the house he couldn't
1:11:03
shake the feeling that he wasn't alone that someone or something was watching him from the corners of the rooms or
1:11:09
from the shadows between the cracks in the cracks in the floorboards but Michael told himself it was just his
1:11:16
imagination getting the better of him and when he sat down to have dinner that
1:11:21
first night he made a note to call a contractor in the morning to start repairing the place and try to get rid
1:11:27
of the pl ampness that hung in the air but as the night wore on and he ate his
1:11:32
meal in the quiet of the house the strange feeling didn't go away it only
1:11:37
grew stronger the silence was thick like a blanket and the occasional sound of something shifting behind the walls made
1:11:45
his skin crawl but when he checked there was nothing there no animals no pipes no
1:11:52
explanation and he told himself it was the house settling that the old timbers were just making noises from the weight
1:11:58
of the years but then he heard a soft whisper coming from somewhere in the distance a voice so faint he thought he
1:12:06
might have imagined it but the longer he sat there the more he could hear it a
1:12:12
low murmuring just beyond the range of his hearing something like words but too
1:12:17
distorted to make out and when he stood up to investigate the whispering stopped
1:12:23
just as suddenly as it had started but the air had changed it felt colder now
1:12:28
and the shadows in the corners of the room seemed to stretch further than they should the room had been and Michael
1:12:35
walked through the house checking every room opening every door but there was
1:12:41
nothing not a thing out of place but the silence felt wrong it wasn't natural and
1:12:47
when he returned to the kitchen and turned off the lights he heard something scrape against the floor like something
1:12:53
dragging across the wooden boards he froze for a moment listening but there
1:12:59
was nothing no footsteps no movements nothing and he laughed nervously to
1:13:05
himself and turned the lights back on but when he did the kitchen was different the chairs had moved from
1:13:12
where he had left them and the cabinet doors were open and as he walked over to close them he saw something on the floor
1:13:19
a thin trail of dark dust leading into the hallway and he followed it his heart
1:13:25
pounding with a mix of curiosity and dread and as he stepped into the hallway
1:13:30
he saw the door to the basement cracked open just a little more than it had been
1:13:35
earlier and it was then that the air around him seemed to freeze he felt a
1:13:40
wave he felt a wave of cold wash over him that made him shiver and something
1:13:46
in his gut told him that whatever was down there didn't want to be found but
1:13:52
Michael was stubborn he had to know what was happening what was causing the strange noises and the creeping sense of
1:14:01
unease that had settled in his chest so he grabbed the flashlight from the drawer in the kitchen and descended the
1:14:08
stairs into the basement the moment his foot touched the first step he heard it again the whispering louder now clearer
1:14:17
and he thought he could hear his name just his name being repeated over and over in the darkness michael michael
1:14:25
michael he tried to call out but his voice caught in his throat and when he
1:14:30
reached the bottom of the stairs the flashlight flickered casting long eerie
1:14:35
shadows across the cluttered room the basement was colder than it should have been almost freezing and the walls were
1:14:42
covered in mildew and old spiderw webs but what struck him the most was the old
1:14:48
wooden chest sitting in the far corner it wasn't something he remembered seeing before but somehow it felt familiar
1:14:56
almost like it had been waiting for him and without thinking he moved towards it as the whispering grew louder like a
1:15:03
chorus rising in the air and when he touched the lid of the chest it was ice
1:15:08
cold and the moment his fingers made contact the whispering stopped and the
1:15:13
basement went silent but the silence was worse than the noise it was suffocating
1:15:19
and when Michael opened the chest he was hit with a sharp rancid smell that made him gag and when he shown the flashlight
1:15:26
inside he saw what looked like old clothes and dusty blankets but as he
1:15:32
pulled them away there was something beneath them something wrapped in a dark cloth and as he peeled it back he froze
1:15:40
there in the chest was a mirror a small round mirror framed in silver and etched
1:15:45
with strange symbols that he didn't recognize and when he looked into the mirror he didn't see his own reflection
1:15:52
instead he saw a dark figure standing just behind him figure was tall and thin
1:15:58
with a face that was twisted and hollow its eyes were dark pits and its mouth stretched wide in a twisted grin and
1:16:06
Michael tried to scream but no sound came out he tried to move but his legs wouldn't respond and the figure in the
1:16:12
mirror reached out a long bony hand and as it touched the glass everything went
1:16:18
dark and he felt something cold wrap around his wrist pulling him forward into the mirror and then there was
1:16:25
nothing but blackness and when the sun rose the nexting the house was still and quiet
1:16:32
and Michael was gone the only thing left behind was the mirror now sitting on the
1:16:38
floor of the basement untouched and the whispering had stopped but in the quiet of the house the shadows seemed to move
1:16:45
just a little closer than before and the air was thick with something that would never leave and in the distance the
1:16:53
faintest trace of footsteps could be heard echoing in the halls
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