A Chilling Encounter in the Abandoned Orphanage

The orphanage had been abandoned for decades, its walls crumbling, its halls silent.

But as I stepped inside, a faint giggle echoed through the darkness.

My flashlight flickered.

A child's voice whispered my name.

I turned, heart pounding, but saw nothing.

Then, a small handprint appeared on the dusty window.

I wasn’t alone.

I followed the sound of soft footsteps down the corridor.

The air grew colder.

A shadow darted past the doorway.

My breath hitched.

In the dim light, I saw her—a little girl in a tattered dress, staring at me with hollow

eyes.

She raised a trembling hand and pointed toward a locked door.

The door creaked as I pushed it open.

Inside, a single wooden crib sat in the center, covered in dust.

A music box rested beside it, playing a haunting lullaby.

The girl appeared again, standing by the crib.

'Help me,' she whispered.

Then, the room turned ice-cold, and the door slammed shut behind me.

The walls trembled as whispers filled the air.

The girl pointed to the crib.

I hesitated, then lifted the lid.

Inside, a faded photograph of children, their faces blurred.

A name was scrawled on the back—hers.

The whispers stopped.

The girl smiled, then vanished.

The door creaked open.

The orphanage was silent once more.