Chapter 1 The Dare
“You’re all idiots.”
Lila said it like a warning. But the kind of warning that, if ignored, would probably end with her tripping over her own feet—or someone else’s.
“I’ll take that as a compliment,” Sam said, adjusting his backpack that definitely held nothing useful. Maybe some flashlights. Definitely snacks. And, if luck was against him, a bottle of soda that was already flat.
“You do know the Whitmore House has been empty for like… forever, right?” Marcus piped up, his fake bravado wobbling under the weight of the looming mansion.
“Forever?” Tara raised an eyebrow. “You mean since 1987, Marcus. That’s not forever. That’s… 36 years. The people inside didn’t even know what TikTok was. They were probably still calling each other on payphones.”
The group huddled at the edge of the Whitmore estate. The mansion loomed above them, windows like blank eyes, siding peeling like old scabs. A light wind rattled the iron gate with a sound that could almost—almost—be a ghost whispering, “Go home.”
“Why are we even doing this?” Ethan muttered. He was the kind of guy who brought three layers of clothes to summer camp and still claimed he was freezing.
“Because, my dear Ethan,” Nina said with a mischievous grin, “daring each other is literally the point of being sixteen. Or, you know, seventeen in your case.”
“Sixteen,” Sam corrected. “And it’s not just a dare. It’s… tradition.”
“Tara,” Lila interrupted, “tradition doesn’t mean we go willingly into a death trap haunted by who-knows-what. I call it—‘moronic peer pressure.’”
“Ha! That’s exactly what makes it fun,” Sam said, waving his hands dramatically. “Fun… and possibly history-making.”
Marcus rolled his eyes. “Yeah, history-making. Until the Whitmore ghost drags us into a basement with a cursed Ouija board or something.”
“Oh, come on,” Nina laughed. “If a ghost is there, we’re probably the most entertaining thing it’s seen in decades.”
Then the gate groaned. Not the creaking of metal, but a deep, sighing groan, like the house itself had noticed their presence.
“You guys feel that?” Ethan asked, clutching Tara’s arm.
“Feel what?” Lila asked, squinting.
“That the house is… watching us?” Ethan whispered.
“Stop being dramatic,” Sam said. But even he swallowed hard.
The front door loomed closer. Dark. Gaping. Waiting. Sam, the unofficial leader of the group, reached for the handle.
And froze.
“Wait,” Tara said. “Do we… knock first?”
“Knock?” Sam blinked. “It’s abandoned!”
“Yeah, but… maybe… ghost etiquette?” Lila muttered.
A long silence settled over the group. Then a sound that was somewhere between a chuckle and a groan came from inside.
“Oh, that’s new,” Nina whispered, leaning closer to peek through the grimy window.
“New like… horrifying?” Ethan asked.
“Exactly like horrifying,” Tara said.
In that moment, all six of them realized something very important: this was no ordinary abandoned mansion. And their dares were about to get much more interesting.
“Okay,” Lila said, gripping her flashlight like a weapon, “I call dibs on screaming first.”
