Emma stood frozen for a moment after the door slammed shut.
Her heart pounded loudly in the silence.
"Hello?" she called cautiously.
No answer came.
The house smelled of dust, old wood, and something rotten. Moonlight slipped through broken windows and painted pale shadows on the floor.
Emma slowly pushed the door open again and stepped inside.
The wooden floor creaked under her feet.
The hallway was long and dark, filled with old portraits hanging crooked on the walls. The faces in the paintings looked faded and strange, as if they were watching her.
Emma took out her flashlight.
Suddenly—
A whisper.
Soft.
Very soft.
But clear enough to hear.
"Leave…"
Emma turned quickly.
"Who's there?" she asked.
The whisper came again.
"Leave this house…"
Her flashlight flickered nervously.
Emma followed the sound down the hallway until she reached a half-open door.
Inside was a small room.
Empty.
Except for one thing.
A wooden rocking chair moving slowly back and forth.
Back.
And forth.
Back.
And forth.
Emma felt cold air brush against her neck.
Then she heard a voice behind her.
Very close.
Almost breathing in her ear.
"You shouldn't be here."
Emma turned around—
But there was no one there.