Chapter 1 - The Move
It all began with one family who only wanted a little quiet.
Dan, 17, had lived with his family in Tel Aviv until recently, a crowded, noisy city full of life.
His parents, Armond and Anna, decided it was too much. They wanted peace. They wanted a fresh start.
They left everything behind: friends, familiar streets, the house Dan grew up in, and drove north.
No one really asked Dan if he wanted to. They simply told him they were moving.
Dan had three siblings.
The oldest, Yuval, 20, was quiet and serious, always lost in his own world.
Dana, the middle one, 19, had her head in the clouds, headphones always on.
And the youngest was Daniel, 14, a smart girl with eyes that understood more than they should.
Anna liked to say the city “eats the soul.”
Armond didn’t talk much, but when he said, “We’re moving,” it was final.
On the way to the new house, Dan sat in the back seat.
Daniel fell asleep on him, Dana had music in her ears, and he just stared out the window.
The view started to change: fewer buildings, more trees, more empty road.
Then something caught his eye.
A man stood on the side of the road.
Tall and skinny, with a long, messy beard and three thick stitches cutting across his face.
His eyes were fixed on Dan, sharp and frozen. He didn’t blink. He didn’t move.
Dan wanted to shout, to point, to tell Dana to look.
But by the time he opened his mouth, the man was gone, as if he’d never been there.
Dan’s stomach flipped.
He tried to convince himself it was just exhaustion, that his mind was playing tricks on him.
But something in the air felt wrong.
“Just a few more minutes and we’re there,” Armond said, in a voice that was a little too calm.
When they arrived, they stepped out of the car and faced the house.
It was huge. Three floors, a red tiled roof, dark stone walls, and old wooden window frames.
It looked beautiful, but cold.
Not a house that felt happy, more like a house that had swallowed the people who lived there before.
They went inside.
The air felt heavy.
It smelled of old dust and mold.
Long hallways, creaking wooden stairs, walls covered with old photographs of people they had never met.
In the living room stood an old radio.
Every few minutes it switched on by itself, buzzed for a moment, then went silent again.
Each time it happened, Dan’s heart jumped.
Armond said it was just a small issue, nothing serious.
But his face didn’t look calm.
He didn’t smile, and his eyes seemed tired and dim.
That evening, Anna called everyone to dinner.
They sat around a big wooden table.
Everyone talked, trying to make it feel like a “normal family” again.
But Dan’s mind was somewhere else.
Why here, of all places?
Why such an old, distant house?
And why did he feel like someone had been watching him since the moment they arrived?
After dinner, Dan went outside to the yard with Dana.
The ground was covered with old wooden planks, some of them broken.
A rusty swing moved slowly and creaked, even though no one touched it.
On the other side was a pile of old tires, covered in mud.
And then Dan saw her.
A figure, standing at the edge of the yard.
She wore a black mask, cracked, scraped, stitched with black thread.
She didn’t move. She didn’t speak.
She just stood there, watching.
Dan blinked, just to make sure he wasn’t imagining it.
She was still there.
The same stare. The same mask.
His heart slammed in his chest.
He took a step back, and his breathing sped up.
Then, a hand touched his shoulder.
Dan spun around in panic. It was Armond.
For a second, Dan thought his father had seen her too.
But Armond didn’t even look in her direction, as if there was nothing there.
His voice was flat, empty.
“Come on. Go inside. It’s getting dark.”
His face was frozen, like someone else was speaking through him.
That night, everyone went to sleep.
Dan lay in his bed, next to Yuval, who slept like a rock.
He tried to fall asleep, but he couldn’t.
The wind whistled outside the window. The walls made small creaking sounds.
He looked at the clock. 2:34 a.m.
Dan went down to the kitchen.
He poured himself some water. His hands shook slightly.
Then came knocking at the door.
Loud. Rhythmic.
Boom. Boom. Boom.
The glass slipped from Dan’s hand and shattered on the floor.
He walked slowly to the window next to the door.
Outside stood a dark figure.
Dan didn’t move. He froze.
“Go away!” Dan shouted. “What do you want from me?!”
The knocking stopped.
Silence.
Then a note slid in under the door.
His heart pounded.
Dan bent down and picked it up.
The paper was wet and stained.
Written in dark red, it read, like blood:
“Too bad you came here.”
Dan didn’t know if it was real blood or if he was losing it.
But the drops looked fresh, like someone had written it a second ago.
His breath caught in his throat.
His hands were shaking.
He threw the note aside and ran back to his room.
He tried to wake Yuval.
“Yuval, get up! Yuval, wake up!”
Yuval didn’t move.
He didn’t open his eyes, as if nothing was happening.
Tears started to run down Dan’s face.
He tried to steady his breathing, but his heart was racing too fast.
And then he heard the words again.
Not from the door.
Not from the window.
From inside.
Inside his head.
“Too bad you came here…”
Again and again, like a dark mantra that wouldn’t end.
The room was dark. Yuval didn’t move. Dan’s throat was dry, and his heart felt like it was about to explode.
Then a hand touched Dan’s shoulder again.
This time, he wasn’t sure it was his father’s hand.
