The Haunted House with a Dark Secret

They say the house at the end of Blackwood Lane has been empty for years.

But every night, a dim light flickers in the attic.

No one dares to go near it—except for Daniel, a skeptic who refuses to believe in ghosts.

One stormy evening, he steps inside, unaware that something is already waiting for him.

The air inside is thick with dust and decay.

Daniel’s footsteps echo as he moves through the empty halls.

Suddenly, a whisper—soft, almost pleading.

He turns, but no one is there.

Then, the floorboards creak above him.

The attic.

His heart pounds as he climbs the stairs, each step heavier than the last.

The attic door groans open.

Inside, a single chair faces the window.

On it, a doll—old, cracked, its glass eyes staring.

Then, a whisper again, closer this time.

The doll’s head tilts slightly.

Daniel stumbles back, but the door slams shut behind him.

The whispers grow louder, forming words: 'You shouldn’t be here.' Daniel pounds on the door, but it won’t

budge.

The whispers turn into laughter—childlike, yet wrong.

The doll moves, its limbs jerking unnaturally.

Then, a shadow rises from the corner, its hollow eyes locked onto him.

The last thing Daniel hears before darkness swallows him is a voice whispering, 'Now you belong to us.'