Carson, despite his own growing unease, approached the door and knocked twice, each knock echoing through the empty air. To their surprise, the door creaked open on its own, as if it had been waiting for them.
A cold gust of wind followed them inside, and in the dim light of the doorway stood an old woman, her face pale and wrinkled with age. Her eyes were dark, hollow, and unsettling, and her thin lips curved into a slight, almost sinister smile as she gazed at them.
"What brings you here?" she asked, her voice rasping like a whisper of wind through dry leaves. "What do you seek?"
The group stood frozen, fear rooting them to the spot. Their legs trembled as if they were made of jelly, and their voices caught in their throats. Finally, it was Brooke who managed to speak, her voice shaky and barely above a whisper. "W...we... we've... come... here... for a long way... and... we... w-want to ask if we can... rest here for the night..." Her words stumbled out, the fear in her voice obvious to everyone in the room, especially to the woman standing before them.
The old woman's eyes narrowed as she studied them, the silence growing thicker by the second. They waited, holding their breath, not sure whether they had made a terrible mistake or whether they would be allowed to stay.
"Come inside," the old woman said, her voice chilling and laced with an eerie tone that sent a shiver down their spines. Reluctantly, they stepped into the house.
To their surprise, the interior was not what they had expected. Despite the outward appearance of decay, the house was beautifully decorated, with a rich, elegant ambiance. The walls were lined with ornate tapestries, and dozens of candles burned, casting a soft, flickering glow that illuminated the dark corners. The smell of the burning wax and the warmth of the fire added a sense of strange comfort, though the unsettling feeling in the air never quite left them.
They placed their bags in one corner of the room, each of them silently taking in the scene. Carson couldn't help but whisper, "This place is... beautiful, but creepy at the same time."
"Yeah, it's... speechless, right?" Griffin said, his eyes darting around the room.
"She's a bit... off," Jillian added quietly, glancing over at the old woman who had led them in. "The way she speaks is... scaring the hell out of me."
As they exchanged nervous laughs, their voices boomed through the house, almost making the walls tremble. Despite the discomfort, they tried to lighten the mood. Griffin, with his usual attempt at humor, pointed out, "Look, here comes the old woman with food for us, like we're royalty!"
Laughter erupted, but Hayden wasn't amused. He shot Griffin a stern look. "Shut your mouth, dickhead. Shameless boy. She's giving us food, and you're making jokes? This isn't funny—it's not even laughable. Show some respect."
Griffin's smile faded as he muttered, "I'm sorry, guys. I guess I crossed the line."
As the old woman served them food, her movements slow and deliberate, the air seemed to grow even heavier with an unsettling presence. After placing the platters before them, she fixed her gaze on each of them one by one. Her eyes were dark and hollow, her face unshaken by the strange atmosphere that surrounded them.
"Eat, and rest," she said softly, her voice unnervingly calm. "But heed my warning. Do not venture outside after dark. There are wild beasts in the woods that prey on young souls like yours. They are not kind to strangers."
She paused for a moment, her gaze lingering on each of them. "Stay within these walls tonight. The night is not kind to those who wander."
Without another word, she turned and left the room, leaving the group in stunned silence.
While they ate and joked, their laughter echoed in the dimly lit room, filling the space with an air of forced normalcy. Still, the old woman's words lingered in their minds, casting an unease that no amount of food or drink could fully dispel.
After they finished, they gathered near the fireplace, the warmth and crackling flames offering some comfort. Soon, one by one, they drifted off to sleep.
Carson, however, remained awake for a while, reading from his Bible. He spoke softly about God, sharing prayers and a sense of peace with the group. It felt like a small reprieve from the fear that still lingered.
But as the night deepened, an unsettling sound broke through the stillness. The old woman returned, her figure standing in the doorway, her presence like a shadow looming over them. She began speaking in an unfamiliar language, her voice rising in a chant that seemed to shake the very air around them. The room grew colder, and strange, unearthly shapes flickered at the edges of the walls. Spirits—dark and whispering—seemed to appear from every corner, drawn to her words.
Griffin, who had been tossing and turning in his sleep, opened his eyes in terror. Sweat poured down his face as he saw the old woman standing at the center of the room, her eyes locked onto him. The spirits circled her, murmuring in a language he couldn't understand. Panic surged through him, and as the woman's figure seemed to draw closer to him, he screamed, "Help! Help!" His heart raced, and his legs trembled.
Suddenly, he was awake—gasping for breath, drenched in sweat. His heart pounded in his chest, and the room was silent, save for the soft, steady breaths of his friends. The nightmare had felt so real.
His friends were startled, all waking up at once, looking around in confusion. "Griffin, what's wrong?" Ky asked, her voice thick with sleep.
He sat up, wide-eyed and trembling. "It was... it was just a nightmare. But it felt real. The old woman... the spirits... everything..."
Jillian, still groggy but concerned, sat up and looked at him with a serious expression. "You woke us all up. We're not going to be able to sleep now."
The group lay there in the darkness, the silence heavy and filled with the weight of Griffin's nightmare. No one spoke, but the uneasy atmosphere made it impossible to rest. From that night on, Griffin earned the nickname "Nightmare Boy," and though they didn't say it aloud, each of them couldn't shake the lingering fear of the house, the old woman, and the spirits that had been summoned in the dead of night.
No one slept easily again that night, and they knew the adventure had taken a darker turn.