Elena tried to leave the house. She packed her bags, grabbed her car keys, and bolted for the door. But the moment she stepped outside, the air seemed to thicken, pressing against her like invisible hands. The whispers followed her, growing louder, more desperate.
She made it to her car, but as she fumbled with the ignition, she saw them. Faces pressed against the windows, dozens of them, their eyes black pits, their mouths stretched in silent screams. They watched her, unblinking, as the stain began to seep from the house, spreading across the lawn like spilled ink.
She couldn't move. She couldn't breathe. The whispers became a roar, and then—
Silence.
When the neighbors found her car the next morning, it was empty. The house was dark, and no one ever saw Elena again. But late at night, when the wind howled through the trees, some claimed they could hear her voice, mingled with the others:
"Do you see it?"
"It's watching you."
"It needs you."