A Séance Gone Terribly Wrong

A low, guttural whisper echoes through the room.

"Who’s there?" one of them stammers.

The board spells out: ‘LEAVE.’ A chair scrapes across the floor on its own.

Panic sets in.

One friend tries to break the circle, but their hands won’t let go.

It’s as if an unseen force is holding them in place.

The temperature drops sharply.

Their breath turns visible.

The entity isn’t just warning them—it’s trapping them.

The lights flicker, then go out completely.

A deep, guttural growl fills the darkness.

Someone screams.

A phone flashlight clicks on, revealing a shadowy figure standing in the corner.

It has no face—just a void where features should be.

The figure moves closer, its presence suffocating.

The door slams shut on its own.

They scramble to escape, but the doorknob won’t turn.

The entity doesn’t want them to leave.

It wants something else.

One friend, shaking, remembers an old superstition: "We have to say goodbye!" They rush back to the board,

hands trembling.

"Goodbye!" they shout in unison.

The planchette moves violently, resisting.

The entity isn’t ready to let go.

The walls tremble, a deafening screech fills the air.

Then—silence.

The door creaks open.

They bolt outside, gasping for breath.

But as they turn back, the board is still moving.

The spirit isn’t gone.

It’s waiting.

Days pass, but the feeling of being watched never fades.

Objects shift when no one is looking.

Shadows stretch unnaturally.

Then, one of them wakes up to find the board on their bed, planchette resting on ‘HELLO.’ A

whisper slithers through the air: "You let me in." Their breath catches.

The séance didn’t end that night.

The spirit followed them home.

And now, it’s just getting started.