The woods seemed alive, though no breeze stirred the skeletal branches. Sara's truck rumbled down the narrow dirt road, its headlights casting long, jagged shadows that danced unnaturally. The deeper she drove, the more suffocating the air became, thick with an unplaceable dread. Her knuckles tightened around the wheel, a cold sweat creeping down her spine.
She glanced at the crumpled piece of paper in her lap. Ravenwood Estate. Her uncle's property—an inheritance she never asked for and wasn't sure she wanted.
Ahead, the road abruptly ended, swallowed by a wrought-iron gate that seemed to loom out of the darkness. Its bars were twisted and rusted, but still imposing, crowned with vicious spikes. She killed the engine, silence rushing in like a tidal wave. When she stepped out, the crunch of her boots on gravel felt unnervingly loud.
As she reached for the gate, she noticed something carved into the metal. At first glance, it looked like rust, but the patterns were deliberate—crude symbols that seemed to shift under her gaze. She shuddered and pushed the gate open.
The house stood beyond, half-hidden by fog. Ravenwood Estate was massive, its jagged silhouette clawing at the moonless sky. The windows were dark, like empty sockets in a skull. A sense of wrongness radiated from it, as though the building itself resented her presence.
She hesitated, her breath misting in the cold air. Something moved in the corner of her vision—a pale shape darting between the trees. She spun around, heart pounding, but the woods were still.
Sara shook her head. "Get it together," she muttered, grabbing her flashlight.
The front door loomed ahead, its wood blackened and warped. The ornate knocker—a grotesque face twisted in a silent scream—felt icy under her hand. When the door creaked open, the smell hit her: damp earth, rot, and something metallic.
Inside, the darkness was almost tangible, heavy and suffocating. She flicked on her flashlight, the beam revealing a grand but decayed foyer. A sweeping staircase dominated the space, its banister carved with intricate patterns that looked disturbingly organic.
As Sara stepped inside, the floor groaned beneath her weight, the sound echoing unnaturally. She swung her flashlight around, its beam catching glimpses of faded wallpaper, shattered furniture, and long, deep scratches gouged into the walls.
"What the hell happened here?" she whispered.
Her eyes were drawn to a massive mirror hanging above the fireplace. Its surface was cracked, the fractures spider-webbing out like veins. As she approached, her reflection shimmered strangely, distorted and wrong.
She froze.
Behind her, in the mirror's fractured depths, something moved—a tall, shadowy figure with glowing eyes.
Sara whipped around, her flashlight cutting through the darkness. Nothing. The room was empty.
The silence pressed in, oppressive and unnerving. She tried to convince herself it was a trick of the light, but the feeling of being watched refused to leave.
A sound broke the quiet—a faint, wet whisper.
"Saaaraa..."
The flashlight trembled in her hand as she turned toward the sound. It came from deeper in the house, beyond the staircase. Against every instinct screaming at her to leave, she moved forward, her steps hesitant.
At the end of the hall was a door, slightly ajar. From the other side came a rhythmic scratching, like nails on wood.
Her hand reached for the doorknob, her mind screaming at her to stop. When she pushed it open, the smell hit her—a nauseating mix of decay and iron.
The room was empty except for a single chair in the center. On it sat a doll, its porcelain face cracked and stained. Its eyes were black voids, endless and malevolent. In its lap was a folded piece of paper.
Sara stepped closer, her heart thundering in her chest. She picked up the paper, her hands trembling as she unfolded it.
The message was written in jagged, blood-red letters:
"LEAVE."
Behind her, the door slammed shut.
The flashlight flickered, and the scratching sound grew louder, now coming from every wall. Sara spun around, her breath hitching as the shadows in the corners began to shift.
And then she heard it again, louder this time.
"Saaaraa..."
The whisper came from just behind her.
She turned, and the flashlight died.