Beautiful Ancestor

The sun was just starting to dip behind the jagged peaks, casting long shadows over the small mountain village. Nearly 25km away from the evergreen Redwood forest, a scarcely populated village was nestled in the red mountains. It had narrow, winding streets lined with old stone houses. Flowers bloomed in window boxes, adding splashes of colour to the gray stone. The sky revealed a tangy colour of orange and hue. If you look closely, you’ll find that people here like to actively engage themselves in terrace farming. The land was rich in soil, and the air was clean and pure, making it a perfect place to live.

In the center of the village was a quaint square with a stone fountain. It was the gathering corner of villagers to watch starlight. They were friendly and greeted each other warmly whenever they passed by. The air often smelled pine trees and wildflowers. The village was peaceful and quiet, with only the sounds of birds singing and a distant stream flowing. It would have been heaven on Earth if only there wasn’t a lingering danger.

People of the village only feared two things in life; the wrath of nature and; the wrath of the Red manor situated at the top of the hill, right beside the Redwood forest. No one dared to go near that forest after evening. It was believed to be haunted as no man who ever stepped into the premises of the manor ever returned. Most villagers even avoided the path that led to the it. It was a curse laid upon them centuries ago. There were several instances that deepened the village’s fear of the old manor, reinforcing the belief that whoever dared to enter would face mysterious and often tragic fates.

It was for this reason they had a board with incidents right at the entrance of the village to anyone who was coming their way to alert them about the looming danger around them.

The board read:

Warning: Beware of the Haunted Manor

Years ago, two young boys went into the Redwood forest after sunset and one of them was never found. The other laid unconscious on the ground of the manor. When inquired, he was too much consumed in fright to speak. It was later revealed that he lost his ability to speak. Rumours were that his parents took him to another village to treat him but he never recovered. He died after six months.

Many winters ago, a group of travellers sought shelter in the manor during a fierce snowstorm. When the storm passed, the villagers found the manor empty, with no trace of the travellers. Their belongings were left behind, as if they had simply vanished into thin air.

A curious historian, determined to uncover the secrets of the manor, spent several nights there alone. He kept a journal, recording strange noises and eerie whispers. One morning, his journal was found at the village inn, filled with frantic, incoherent scribbles. He was never seen again.

A local farmer’s dog ran into the forest and didn’t return. When the farmer followed, he discovered his dog at the manor’s doorstep, growling at the door. The dog refused to leave the spot, and shortly after, it fell ill and died, leaving the farmer convinced the manor was cursed.

A group of college students, intrigued by the manor’s dark history, decided to film a documentary. Their footage showed glimpses of shadowy figures and unexplained phenomena. The last scene showed the students fleeing in terror. The camera was found, but the students were not.

A renowned paranormal investigator came to debunk the manor’s haunted reputation. He set up equipment to capture any supernatural activity. The next morning, his equipment was found smashed, and he was discovered wandering the forest, muttering about voices in the dark. He never conducted another investigation.

“That’s scary.”

Suitcase in hand, a petite frame covered in thick coat, and a fancy muffler carelessly hanging down the shoulder, a girl in her teen exclaimed, staring at the board.

“Pot calling the kettle black.” Her friend snickered from beside her.

Flora looked at him inquiringly.

“That prank you pulled last week?” Daksh, Flora’s classmate, neighbour and childhood friend reminded her. “Scared me pretty good.”

“Please,” another voice joined in. Arjun, Flora’s adoptive brother was two years older than her. At seventeen, had a slim, lean build with dark hair and deep-set dark eyes that sparkled with mischief. His warm, sun-kissed skin and easy smile gave him a quiet charm. Though not athletic or muscular, his movements were quick and not so graceful, and he carried himself with an effortless, laid-back confidence. He was dressed in a simple T-shirt and jeans. “You’re even scared of dragonflies.”

“Have you seen how they fly?” Daksh shuddered picturing dragonflies in his mind. “They zip around all over the place. It’s weird.”

“They’re just flying insects, and they look cool. You’re such a scaredy-cat.” The older teenager rolled his eyes and folded his arms in a way as if it was already obvious, giving Daksh a smug look.

“Junie!” Arjun’s mother scolded him, a frown forming on her face. “That’s no way to talk.”

“What!” Her son said in defense, throwing his hands up. “He is scared of stupid things.” A glanced back at Daksh with a mixture of frustration and bewilderment. “Seriously, dragonflies?”

“I know, right!” To his right, stood, Amita, Daksh’s elder sibling, a seventeen year old girl wearing old jeans and clean sneakers. It looked like she recently purchased them, or she had a knack for cleaning. She also wore a hooded jacket that covered most of her forehead. Her hands were in her pocket as she gave Daksh a mischievous grin. “Bro, scaring you is like breathing. I could just say ‘boo’, and you’d be sweating. You barely qualify as a test subject for beginners, no offence.”

“Yeah, it wasn’t offensive at all. I just love hearing you both reminding me how much of a coward I am.” Daksh was thin, dark complexioned boy with messy hair always covering his forehead. He was actually quite goodloo if only he paid attention to himself.

Amita ignored his snarky comment.

“Are you afraid of leaves blowing in the wind too? Or butterflies?” Arjun said, not taking his sarcasm seriously as he casually draped his arm around Daksh.

“Junie, enough!” his mother said sternly. “Everyone has their fears, and mocking them isn’t helping.”

Arjun rolled his eyes. “What will happen to all the spooky stories I have to share?”

“Save them for later, when it’s dark and extra creepy.” Amita said with a mischievous gleam.

“We don’t need to wait for the dark," muttered Flora as she read each tale written on the old, weathered board posted at the entrance. “Looks like things here are creepy all the time.” The board was filled with handwritten notes and warnings about the haunted manor on the hill.

She turned to her mother, who was seated on a nearby bench, waiting for the ride that was supposed to give to take them. “Mummy, are you sure this is the right place?”

“Yes, Flossy,” her mother answered, adjusting her shawl against the cool mountain breeze. “It was clearly stated in the documents. Didn’t we go through it?”

Intrigued and a little frightened, Daksh peered over Flora’s shoulder to read the tales himself. “These tales are pretty wild,” he said. “You think this place is haunted?”

Arjun grinned. “Brilliant!”

Flora’s and Arjun's mother smiled reassuringly at her children. “These stories are just part of the local folklore. People like to add a bit of mystery to their surroundings. I’m sure the manor will be charming.”

Flora looked at the board again, her forehead wrinkled. “Too many things happened for it to be random,” she said. “There has to be some truth to these stories if so many people wrote about them.”

“Oh, chill up, girl.” Amita waved her hand dismissively. “You don’t actually believe in ghosts, do you? It’s probably just a bunch of superstitions.”

Arjun gave his sister a little poke. “Don’t forget who you are - the queen of pranks.” He bowed to her as a joke.

Flora couldn’t help but grin. “I still think that title needs improvement.”

“You got it fair and square. You can change it if you want. It’s pretty tough to watch a creepy show like ‘Midnight’ without even breaking a sweat.”

“Especially when Junie peed himself,” Daksh said with a sneaky grin.

“It was water.” Arjun appeared mortified. “I was gonna drink some when this gross two-headed monster with dead eyes and sharp teeth showed up. Its face was all peeling off as it killed its victims. Ugh! It was so gross.”

“Whatever makes you feel better.” Daksh grinned.

“Oh, you’re asking for it.”

He started chasing Daksh, who avoided his attacks with ease.

“I don’t understand he is scared of cockroaches, cactus, even jelly - for some reason, but dodges attacks so well like a trained professional or something.” Amita observed.

Flora chuckled at her friends.

Two villagers passing by overheard their conversation and stopped dead on his tracks. “You folks headin’ to the old manor?” he asked. “Heard plenty of stories, have ya?” he asked, his tone a mix of curiosity and concern.

“Yes, we have,” Flora’s mother replied, standing up. “Are they true?”

The first one shrugged. “Depends on who you ask. Some say the stories are just that - stories. Others, well, they’ve seen things that can’t be explained.”

His companion, however, shook his head vehemently. “They are not stories. That manor is haunted. It’s not just stories. Strange things have happened around that place.”

Arjun grinned at the man. “We’ll be fine. Thanks for the warning, though.”

The second villager took a step closer, lowering his voice. “People go missing, hear voices, see shadows that don’t belong. Last year, a group of researchers came and vanished without a trace. Only their equipment was found, scattered and broken.”

Daksh shivered slightly, glancing at Flora. “Maybe this isn’t such a good idea.”

Flora glanced nervously at her friends, but her mother remained unfazed. “We appreciate your concern, but it’s our ancestral property. It is not haunted.”

The villager sighed, realizing he couldn’t change their minds. “Alright, alright, but don’t say I didn’t warn you.”

As they walked away, shaking their head and muttering something, Flora turned to her mother. “Maybe this is a bad idea.”

Her mother squeezed her shoulder. “It’s our responsibility to take care of this property. We need to inspect it before we can sell it. We’re tight on funds and can’t afford to pass up the opportunity. Besides, you know most legends are based on fear of the unknown. I’m sure it’s nothing.”

Arjun clapped his hands together. “Alright, team! Let’s head to our spooky manor and make some memories. Who knows, maybe we’ll debunk some myths while we’re at it.”

The group gathered their belongings as their ride approached. Flora gave the board one last glance before joining her friends. “Let’s hope we don’t become the next story on that board.”

As they climbed into the horse cart, Flora’s mother patted her shoulder. “I am sure it will be an adventure. Just like the ones Arjun loves to share.”

“He only shares spooky stories.” Daksh responded.

Arjun leaned forward from his place, a mischievous grin on his face. “Spooky stories make the best adventures.”

“Mummy, what are you - are you going to?” Flora asked, wide-eyed, pointing at the horse cart.

Her mother, dressed in a practical yet elegant travel coat, took the reins of the horse confidently. The leather creaked softly in her hands, and the horse snorted, pawing at the ground as if ready for the journey ahead. “No one wants to go near the manor,” she explained, her voice calm and reassuring. “So I borrowed the cart to get us there. Rest assured, I know the way."

Arjun chuckled as he climbed into the cart, his eyes sparkling with excitement. “Now this is what I call an authentic adventure!” he exclaimed, his voice brimming with enthusiasm. “Ghost stories, horse carts - it’s like something out of a novel! All we need now is an actual spirit to make it complete!” He rubbed his hands together, grinning widely as he looked around.

“Yeah, why don’t you try summoning one?” Amita added with a laugh, her eyes twinkling with humor as she settled into the cart next to Flora.

“I just might,” Arjun replied with a confident grin. “It might learn something from ‘thecooldude’,” he added, emphasizing his social media username with a playful swagger. He adjusted his cap and pulled out his phone, pretending to type out a summoning spell on his screen. “Just imagine the post: ‘Arjun, aka thecooldude, teaches ghost how to chill.’ It would go viral in no time!”

“Still think that’s a dumb name.” Flora muttered under her breath.

Daksh patted the horse’s neck gently. “Well, at least the horse looks friendly enough.”

Flora’s mother gripped the reins, ready to start their journey. “Everyone get settled. It’s not a long ride, but it might be a bit bumpy.”

As the cart began its journey up the path, the friends exchanged nervous but excited glances. The horse trotted steadily, the sound of its hooves echoing in the quiet evening.

Flora sighed, glancing out as they started moving up the winding path to the manor. “I just hope it’s worth it. We really need to sell this place.”

Their debts, Arjun’s college fees, her school fees were all dependent on it.

Her friend, trying to lighten the mood, nudged her. “Hey, if it turns out to be haunted, that might increase its value. People love a good phantom story.”

Flora’s mother chuckled. “Or scare potential buyers away.”

Daksh, who had been quiet until now, spoke up. “We can put cameras in the manor.” He suggested, though his voice quivered a bit. “If-if we do encounter anything paranormal, we’ll have proof.”

“It might go viral!” Amita exclaimed. “We’ll be famous.”

“And make money. See now you are talking!” Arjun gave her a high five that Amita returned with equal enthusiasm.

As the the horse cart continued its ascent, the group fell into a mix of excited and anxious chatter. The dense forest began to thin out, revealing glimpses of the old manor through the trees. Its tall, imposing structure loomed ahead, casting long shadows in the fading light.

Flora nodded absentmindedly at whatever her friends said, though her eyes remained fixed on the looming silhouette of the manor ahead. “Let’s just hope this place isn’t as scary as the stories say.”

Arjun, sitting next to Daksh, grinned. “Scary or not, we’re doing this. Oh and who knows, we’ll even find some hidden treasure or family secrets.”

The younger boy felt his voice trembling, as the manor neared. He tried to smile but failed. “I-I’m not sure about hidden treasure. I’d be happy if we just don’t find any ghosts.”

Flora’s mother smiled at her daughter, her eyes on the path ahead. “You father never spoke of it. This place has been in the family for generations. It’s time we see it for ourselves and decide what to do with it.”

As the manor came into full view, its tall, weathered structure stood ominously against the darkening sky. The friends fell silent, each lost in their thoughts, as they approached the ancestral property.

Flora took a deep breath, her hand gripping the side of the cart. “Alright, everyone. We are here.”

Daksh swallowed hard, glancing nervously at the dark windows of the manor. “I-I hope we don’t regret this. What if the stories are true?”

“Don’t worry, man. We’re all in this together.” Arjun patted Daksh on the back and spoke in genuine concern. “And hey, if things get too spooky, we can always leave, right?”

Amita nodded, adjusting her camera. “Exactly. We’ll stick together and look out for each other. Plus, we have a camera to capture anything unusual.”

“Here we are. Let’s be brave and see what our family’s legacy holds.” Flora’s mother guided the cart to a stop in front of the manor as she looked at her two children.

As they climbed out of the cart, the friends huddled closer, the manor’s eerie presence pressing down on them. Flora took another deep breath, looking at her friends. “Let’s do this,” she repeated, more for herself than anyone else.

Daksh nodded, trying to steady his nerves. “L-let’s.”

They pushed open the heavy wooden door of the manor, which creaked loudly in the stillness. The air inside was cold and stale, carrying the scent of dust and old wood. The grand foyer, though once magnificent, was now draped in cobwebs and shadows.

“Damn, this place is spooky,” Arjun muttered, his voice echoing in the vast, empty space of the manor’s grand hall. The dim light from their flashlights cast long, eerie shadows on the walls, making the old portraits seem to come alive.

“And dirty,” Amita added, wrinkling her nose as she brushed away a cobweb that had clung to her sleeve. She flicked it away with a shudder, glancing around at the layers of dust that covered the furnishings.

“And ancient,” Flora said, her eyes wide as she stared up at the massive chandelier hanging precariously from the ceiling. Its crystals, though dulled by decades of neglect. “When was the last time someone lived here?”

Arjun walked over to an ornate but weathered mirror, wiping away a thick layer of dust to reveal his reflection. “Feels like this place has been abandoned for centuries.”

Amita wandered over to a grand piano in the corner, her fingers trailing over the keys. She pressed one lightly, and a ghostly note filled the room. “It’s like time just stopped here,” she murmured. “Everything seems frozen.”

“Do you think we’ll find anything... or anyone... here?”

Daksh stepped carefully across the creaky wooden floorboards, his eyes scanning the faded wallpaper and cracked plaster.

He shivered, rubbing his arms. “Is it just me or does anyone feels like someone’s watching us. I don’t like this at all.”

Flora took a few steps forward, her footsteps echoing on the floor. “We’ll start with a quick look around.”

“Let’s document everything.” Flipping on her camera’s light, casting a beam into the dark corners, Amita said. “It’ll help us remember what needs fixing."

Arjun grinned, trying to lighten the mood. “Let’s hope we’ll capture some outwardly activity on film. Instant fame, right?”

Flora’s mother led the way, her voice steady. “Head to the main hall. We can set up our base there and start making a plan.”

As they walked deeper into the manor, the creaking of the floorboards and the occasional skittering of unseen creatures kept them on edge. The quality of the place was still visible beneath the layers of dust and neglect, but the eerie atmosphere was impossible to ignore.

Daksh stayed close to the group, his eyes darting nervously around. “Every sound is making me jumpy. I want to leave.”

Flora turned to him, her voice gentle. “It’s okay. Just relax!”

Her mother chimed in, her tone firm yet kind. “This is our family’s place, and we need to see it through. I know the tale villagers told were scary, but they are hyped.”

Daksh swallowed hard, trying to steady his breathing. “I overheard some villagers saying someone was murdered here and their spirit still looms.”

“And also that the spirit is most interested in fifteen-year-old,” Arjun added with a smirk.

“Junie!” Amita scolded lightly, giving him a playful shove. “Stop terrorising my brother.”

Daksh’s eyes widened further, and he glanced nervously around the dimly lit room. “W-what if it’s true?” he stammered, his voice barely above a whisper.

Flora stepped closer to Daksh, offering a reassuring smile. “I am fifteen, too,” she said softly, placing a comforting hand on his shoulder. “If there’s anything spooky going on, we’ll face it together.”

Still holding her camera to capture something, Amita chimed in. “Yeah. If there’s a ghost, we’ll just tell it we’re here to clean up and not cause any trouble.”

Flora rolled her eyes. “Let’s not give any ideas, Ami. We’re here to figure out what to do with this property, not get haunted.”

Arjun grinned, nudging Daksh. “Maybe if you’re nice to the ghost, it’ll show you where the hidden treasure is.”

He shivered in return, his voice barely a whisper. “I-I’d rather not find out.”

Amita patted her brother’s back reassuringly. “Just ignore Junie’s jokes.”

Flora, feeling uneasy by the minute, couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched. The shadows seemed to shift and move, and the cold air felt like icy fingers brushing against her skin. She glanced around nervously, her heart pounding in her chest as she tried to convince herself it was just her imagination.

Arjun continued, unable to resist teasing. “If we do see one, I’ll handle the situation with my amazing skills as a gymnast,” he boasted, attempting a playful cartwheel but landing awkwardly on one foot.

“Yeah, right.” Amita rolled her eyes, though a smile tugged at her lips. “You’ll probably scare the spirit away with your clumsy moves.”

“Hey, I’m not clumsy!” Arjun protested, brushing off his jacket. “I just need more space to show my true potential.”

Daksh, still jittery but reassured by the others, nodded. “Let’s just keep moving. The sooner we get this over with, the sooner we can go back to somewhere less... creepy.”

Sensing Flora’s discomfort, Amita tried to lighten the mood. “How about we split up and complete the work soon, Scooby-Doo style?” she suggested with a grin.

“Are you crazy?" Daksh nearly jumped out of his skin. "Have you never seen a horror movie? That’s how people get picked off one by one!”

Flora’s mother, who had been quietly observing the group’s antics, stepped forward and spoke up with authority. “We’re not splitting up. You kids need to keep your imaginations in check.”

He rubbed his clammy palms together nervously. “Alright, I’ll try. Just... don’t leave me behind, okay?”

Arjun clapped him on the shoulder, a mischievous grin spreading across his face. “Never, buddy. We’ll keep you safe. And if worse comes to worst, we’ll offer you as a trade to the whatever demon residing here so the rest of us can be free.”

Flora and Amita both smacked him on his arms in unison.

“Not cool, bro!” Amita shook her head, giving Arjun a disapproving look.

Flora, on the other hand, has been quiet during the entire ordeal, unable to shake the feeling that something was off about the manor, or maybe the villagers warning was getting to her. She couldn’t help but glance around warily, her eyes scanning the dark corners and shadowy figures.

The walls were peeling and discoloured, adding to the sense of decay. Her gaze lingered on an old portrait hanging crookedly on the wall - a stern-looking man with eyes that seemed to follow her every move. She shivered, feeling an inexplicable chill run down her spine.

As the group moved deeper into the manor, her steps were cautious, her senses on high alert. The grand staircase loomed ahead, its banister covered in dust and cobwebs. She could almost hear faint whispers in the air, though she couldn’t tell if they were real or just her imagination.

Arjun, ever the witty bully, smirked. “Flossy, don’t tell me you’re getting spooked too. I thought you were the brave one here.”

Flora shot him a look, her voice steady but her eyes betraying her unease. “Enough with the jokes. This place is creepy enough without you adding to it.”

Amita, still recording, added, “Yeah, Junie. Save the jokes until we’re sure we’re alone in here.”

Arjun held up his hands in mock surrender. “Alright, alright. But seriously, Daksh, you’ve got to loosen up a bit. Your scaredy virus has infected Flossy.”

Daksh took a deep breath, trying to steady his nerves.

Flora stayed at the rear of the group, her hand gripping the strap of her bag tightly. She kept an eye on the shadows, half-expecting something to emerge from them. The manor’s oppressive atmosphere loomed around her, and she couldn’t help but wonder what secrets it held.

***

They finally settled in the hall right beside the entrance. It was Daksh’s idea, reasoning they could easily flee if they encountered any paranormal activity. Flora thought the plan was flawed; she wanted to tell him that any supernatural being could stop them within seconds, but he already looked so frightened that she kept her thoughts to herself.

“We’ll be camping here tonight,” her mother announced as she took out a sleeping bag and spread it on the floor.

“Here, I’ll help,” Daksh offered, his hands shaking slightly as he unfolded another sleeping bag.

Arjun tossed his bag down with a casual air. “Alright, who’s up for some horror stories to set the mood?”

“Seriously?” Flora’s voice lacked its usual firmness. The atmosphere was getting to her too.

Amita finished setting up her camera on a tripod. “There! Maybe we’ll catch something on film tonight. Ghost hunters, eat your heart out.”

The large hall was filled with an eerie silence, broken only by the occasional creak of the old manor settling. Shadows danced on the walls, cast by the flickering flashlight beams.

As they finished setting up their makeshift camp, Amita suddenly remembered. “Hey, I saw a small library while we were exploring. I want to check it out.”

Daksh’s eyes widened in alarm. “No way! Are you crazy? What if something happens?”

Amita grinned teasingly, holding her phone. “If a ghost shows up, I’ll just go live. Instant internet fame!”

Flora shook her head, her unease growing. “Ami, no, it’s not a good idea to wander off alone.”

Arjun, ever the instigator, smirked. “I’ll go with her. Maybe we’ll find some old, dusty books on exorcisms. You know, just in case.”

Flora’s mother, trying to maintain order, spoke up. “No one is going anywhere alone. If you want to explore, we go as a group in broad daylight. Safety in numbers.”

Daksh, nodded vigorously. “I’m all for that plan. Let’s stay together.”

Arjun smirked, his eyes twinkling with mischief. “Oh please, these are phantoms - ghosts, not vampires who burst into flames at the sight of the sun.” He struck a pose, mimicking a vampire recoiling dramatically. “Besides, daylight might just ruin their ghostly glow. They need that eerie ambiance, you know?”

Everyone burst into chuckles, the tension easing.

Amita sighed, but her smile didn’t fade. “Alright, alright, Geez! We’ll all check out the library tomorrow. For now, let’s just try to get some rest.”

The group settled down, their sleeping bags forming a loose circle in the center of the hall. The vast, decaying space felt the darkness pressing in from all sides.

Flora lay down, her eyes scanning the ceiling. “Do you think the stories are true?” she whispered to her mother lying beside her.

“I don’t know,” her mother replied softly, “but if they are, we’ll find out soon enough.”

Arjun’s voice floated over from his sleeping bag, dripping with sass. “Just remember, if anything happens, you wake me up and we run for the door. No heroics. And definitely no sacrificing ‘thecooldude’ for the greater good.”

Amita snickered. “Of course, Junie. We wouldn’t dream of sacrificing our resident internet celebrity.”

Daksh pulled his sleeping bag tighter around himself, his voice barely above a whisper. “I just hope nothing happens at all.”

As the group settled into an uneasy silence, the manor seemed to come alive with faint, unexplainable noises. The creaking of the floorboards, the distant rustling, and the occasional whispering draft kept them on edge. Flora couldn’t shake the feeling that they were being watched, and every time she closed her eyes, she saw shadows moving just beyond her vision.

It was nearly an hour later when Flora found that she couldn’t sleep. She tossed and turned, hearing snores around her. Finally, she gave up and sat up, noticing Amita already staring intently at the camera footage.

“What is it?” Flora whispered, moving closer to her.

“It’s weird.” She said checking her phone. “Remember the library I mentioned seeing on the recordings before? It’s nowhere to be found now. I’m positive I saw it on the first floor west.”

“Here, let me check.” Flora replayed the recording but found the same results. The library had vanished.

“I should go and check,” Amita declared.

“Ami, no! Something’s not right here.”

Amita frowned and nodded but got up anyway. Flora looked at her inquiringly.

“I need to pee.”

“I’ll come with you.” Her friend offered.

But Amita shook her head. “Stop being so paranoid. It’s just a bathroom trip.”

Flora sighed, her concern still evident. “Just hurry back, okay? This place gives me the creeps.”

Amita waved her off with a casual smile. “I’ll be fine. I’ll be back before you know it.”

As Amita walked away, Flora watched her disappear down the dimly lit corridor. The manor seemed to groan and whisper, the air thick with an eerie silence. Her anxiety grew with each passing minute, the oppressive atmosphere making it hard to shake the feeling that something was watching them.

Ten minutes passed, and Amita hadn’t returned. Flora’s worry turned into panic. She stood up and hesitated for a moment, her instincts screaming that something was wrong. Finally, she decided to check on her friend.

‘Bad, bad move. You should have woken up the rest.’ Her mind scolded.

She walked down the corridor, her footsteps echoing off the cold, stone walls as she reached the bathroom, only to find it empty. The fear in her chest tightened, and she hurried back to the hall where everyone had been sleeping.

Her heart pounded in her ears as she looked around the vacant hall.

“What the - ?”

The sleeping bags were scattered, but her family and friends were nowhere to be seen. Horror washed over her as she called out their names, her voice trembling. “Mom? Arjun? Daksh? Where are you?”

Desperation drove her to search every room and corridor. As she moved deeper into the manor, the air grew colder, and the shadows seemed to shift and move on their own. Her breathing quickened, and she felt an icy dread settle over her.

It was then she came face to face with the haunting spirit of the manor, a dangerously enchanting figure with a distorted face. She screamed on top of her lungs when the phantom materialised out of the shadows, its presence sucking the warmth from the air. The spirit hovered in the air, an eerie glow emanating from its form, its movements both fluid and unnaturally jagged.

Eyes, cold and piercing, locked onto hers, sending a chill down her spine. It’s face was a grotesque mask, twisted in perpetual agony and rage. It’s body was contorted, as if frozen in the midst of a violent struggle, limbs bent at unnatural angles.

“You’re looking for your friends,” the voice whispered, chilling and echoing through the empty hallway. “They are asleep.”

“T-t-h-h-a-a-n-t,” Flora stammered, terror gripping her. “N-o-h-v-e.”

“I wonder what language that is?” the ghost mused with a mocking tilt of his head.

“T-h-h-r-h-e,” she managed to sputter.

“Oh, do try to articulate,” the ghost chided, his grin widening into a grotesque mask of malice. “It’s not becoming to babble in the presence of your host.”

Her heart pounded as she forced out her words. “W-w-here ah-r th-e-y?”

The laughter that followed was a cold, hollow sound, reverberating through the manor. “They’re in a different realm now,” he replied, his tone mockingly professorial. “Caught between the living and the dead. Trapped, and you, my dear, are at my mercy.”

Flora stood frozen, her legs betraying her. “I-I didn’t do anything w-wrong. You - what do y-you want from me?” she managed to ask, her voice shaking.

The ghost tilted his head, as if pondering the question. “Oh, it’s not about what you’ve done,” he said with a darkly whimsical tone. “It’s about what I enjoy. And I enjoy punishing intruders. It gets so dreadfully lonely in this old manor. Got to have some entertainment.”

Flora’s voice took on a harder edge. “Let them go, please. We didn’t mean any harm.”

“Ah, but you see,” the ghost’s eyes glinted with manic glee, “your presence here is harm enough. Trespassing on my domain, disturbing my rest. You must understand, a ghost’s peace is a delicate thing.”

“H-h-how was I...?”

The ghost floated back, eyes narrowing. “Despite warnings, you come here. Don’t you know what happened to those who thought they could outsmart me?”

The air grew colder, and its translucent form seemed to shimmer with an ethereal light. “They all met a fate far worse than mere death. Some became shadows of their former selves, trapped somewhere for eternity. Others... well, let’s just say they became part of the legend that keeps people away from this place.”

She could feel the icy tendrils of fear creeping up her spine. She wanted to cry. “W-what do you want?” she repeated, her voice almost a whisper.

The ghost grinned again, a sinister smile that sent shivers down her spine as she swallowed hard. “What I want,” he said, his voice a sinister whisper, “is your fear. Might as well have my meal since I woke up. Fear sustains me, gives me power. The more you struggle, the stronger I become.”

Her eyes closed, and she waited for her fate, trying to mask her terror.

As the shadow advanced closer, it abruptly halted, as if sensing something. It fixed its cold, piercing eyes on her, narrowing them with intense scrutiny. The gaze felt like an eternity, and just as Flora believed she could no longer endure and her heart might give out, he whispered.

“You’re one of mine.”

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