On the outskirts of a small, forgotten town, there stood an abandoned mansion known as Blackwood Manor. No one dared to go near it after sunset, for whispers of a shadowy figure lurking inside had spread fear among the villagers for decades.
But thirteen-year-old Emily wasn't afraid of stories. She had always been curious, and when she found an old diary in her grandmother's attic that mentioned Blackwood Manor, she knew she had to uncover its secrets.
One misty evening, she sneaked out, clutching a flashlight, and made her way to the decrepit mansion. The air was thick with dampness, and the towering trees seemed to lean toward her as if whispering warnings. The iron gate creaked as she pushed it open, and the wind howled through the cracks of the broken windows.
Inside, the air was stale, filled with the scent of rotting wood and forgotten time. Dust floated in the dim light of her flashlight as she stepped carefully across the creaky wooden floor. The silence was overwhelming, but soon, she heard it—soft, eerie whispers coming from upstairs.
She hesitated, her heart pounding, but curiosity drove her forward. Slowly, she ascended the grand staircase, each step echoing through the empty halls. As she reached the landing, the whispers grew louder, almost as if someone was calling her name.
"Emily..."
She froze. The voice was soft yet chilling, like a breath against her ear. Spinning around, she saw nothing but darkness stretching down the hallway.
A sudden gust of wind slammed a door shut behind her