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Whispers in the Wind: A Terrifying Encounter at Elderwood Manor


Whispers in the Wind: A Terrifying Encounter at Elderwood Manor
Original artwork by Demetri Welsh.

In the quaint, mist-shrouded town of Marrowdale, there stood an ancient abode known as Elderwood Manor. A house that whispered tales of the past through its creaking floors and whistling hallways. As a psychic and an old-soul, I, Demetri Welsh, have always been drawn to such places, where the veil between worlds is thin.


It was a dreary night in November when I decided to visit Elderwood. The moon was a mere sliver in the sky, casting eerie shadows across the gnarled trees that surrounded the manor. The wind howled like a chorus of lost souls, setting an ominous tone.


As I stepped into the manor, a chill ran down my spine. Not the usual chill of a drafty old house, but something more... sentient. I could sense a presence, as if the house itself was alive, watching me with unseen eyes. The air was thick with the scent of old wood and a faint, unplaceable sweetness.


I began to explore, my footsteps echoing in the empty halls. In the grand hall, I found a portrait of a woman, her eyes seeming to follow me. "Lady Eleanor," read the plaque beneath it. Rumor had it that she roamed these halls, restless in the afterlife.


As night deepened, the atmosphere grew heavier. The wind outside rose to a fever pitch, as if trying to communicate. Then, it happened. A voice, barely more than a whisper, drifted through the corridors. "Leave..."


The temperature dropped suddenly, my breath visible in the air. I heard footsteps upstairs, slow and deliberate. Yet, I knew the manor was deserted. An inexplicable fear gripped me, but my curiosity was stronger.


I ascended the grand staircase, each step creaking under my weight. The footsteps had stopped. At the top of the stairs, I felt a sudden warmth, as if passing through an invisible barrier. The air was suddenly still, the silence deafening.


In the master bedroom, I encountered her - Lady Eleanor. She was ethereal, her form flickering like a candle flame. Her eyes, filled with sorrow, met mine. "Help me," she whispered.


My heart raced as I reached out psychically, trying to understand her plight. Images flashed in my mind - love, betrayal, a tragic end. Lady Eleanor was bound to this place by her untimely demise, her spirit unable to move on.


I spoke softly, offering words of comfort. I explained that she was no longer bound by the physical world, that she could find peace. For a moment, her expression softened, a glimmer of hope in her ghostly eyes.


Then, as suddenly as she appeared, she vanished. The house groaned, as if exhaling a long-held breath. The wind outside calmed, and the oppressive atmosphere lifted.


As I left Elderwood Manor, the sun was beginning to rise, casting warm light on the old stones. I looked back once, half-expecting to see Lady Eleanor at the window. But there was only the quiet manor, its secrets once again hidden in the shadows.


Elderwood Manor remained a place of mystery, a reminder of the thin line between our world and the next. As I walked away, I couldn't help but smile. Despite the fear and the chill, it was encounters like these that made my old soul feel alive.

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Leona Burnett
Leona Burnett
01 déc. 2023
Noté 5 étoiles sur 5.

Love this story! You write so eloquent

J'aime

Invité
01 déc. 2023
Noté 5 étoiles sur 5.

Loved it - so enjoyable

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