I freeze. The hairs on the back of my neck stand up as the world suddenly feels much quieter than before.
Is it just a prank? Or is something trying to scare me?
"Oh no, it's back"
It all started when I moved into this house six months ago. It was an old place, with creaky wooden floors and a history that seemed to cling to the walls. My great great grandfather and grandmother used to live in this house, generations passed and finally we had to live in this place where my father grew up.
At first, everything seemed normal. The house had its quirks: doors that didn't quite close, strange drafts, and the faint scent of earth, as if the walls themselves were breathing. But I chalked it up to age.
Then, small things began to happen. Items weren't where I left them. A cup would appear in the sink even though I hadn't used it. Once, I swore I heard footsteps upstairs, but the attic was locked, and I didn't have the key.
Curiosity got the better of me one day, and I decided to investigate. The attic door, despite being locked, gave way with a single push, as if it had been waiting for me.
Inside, it was dark and cold, the air heavy with dust. But what caught my attention was a small wooden chest tucked into the corner. It was unassuming, but something about it felt… wrong. I hesitated but finally opened it.