🕯️ The Whispering 👻 The House at Blackwood Hill – Part 2 (The Whispering)
Eli should have left when the front door slammed shut behind him.
But he didn't.
The air inside the house felt thick — like it hadn't been disturbed in years. Dust coated the floor, yet there were no footprints.
Except his.
The whispering started softly.
At first, it sounded like wind slipping through cracks in the walls. But the windows were sealed shut.
Then it became clearer.
Not wind.
Words.
His name.
"Eli…"
He spun around. The hallway stretched long and narrow behind him, shadows pooling in the corners. The staircase at the end creaked.
No one was there.
"Just the house settling," he muttered.
But the whisper came again.
Closer.
"Eli…"
The Mirror
Drawn by something he couldn't explain, Eli stepped into a side room. A tall mirror stood against the far wall, its glass cloudy with age.
As he approached, his reflection lagged a half-second behind.
He froze.
The reflection didn't.
It tilted its head slowly — studying him.
And then it smiled.
Eli stumbled back, heart hammering. When he looked again, the reflection was normal.
But something was different.
There was a shadow behind him.
He turned quickly.
The room was empty.
When he looked back at the mirror, the shadow was gone — but faint words had appeared in the dust on the glass:
"STAY."
The Stairs
The whispering grew louder, now coming from upstairs.
Not threatening.
Inviting.
The staircase groaned as if responding to invisible footsteps climbing ahead of him.
Step.
Creak.
Step.
Creak.
And then—
A door slammed upstairs.
The entire house shuddered.
The whispering stopped.
Silence swallowed everything.
Eli stood at the bottom of the stairs, staring up into the darkness.
Something was waiting.
And whatever it was—
It knew he wasn't leaving.