Chapter 1: Footsteps Into the Unknown
The legends always warned about the forest. They said the trees whispered at night, that the air carried voices of the lost, and that if you got too close to the house hidden deep inside, you'd never be seen again.
But teenagers never listen.
Lerato's boots sank into the damp earth with every step as she led the way through the twisted path of Whispering Hollow. A fog rolled in low and slow, curling around their ankles like ghostly fingers. Her grip tightened on the flashlight in her hand, its beam shaky but steady.
This is dumb, Thabo muttered from behind. Like, properly dumb.
No one's forcing you, Lerato replied without turning around. You can go back and let the stories scare you.
I would,he said, if I could actually see the way back.
Simo, the quietest of the three, stayed close to Thabo. His eyes darted through the trees, catching shadows where there were none. Do you hear that? he asked, his voice barely louder than a breath.
Hear what? Lerato stopped and glanced back.
"Like… whispering."
Just five minutes, Lerato said. We take a look, prove it's just an old house, and go. That's it.
Against better judgment, the boys followed her up the creaking steps. Every plank groaned beneath their weight as if the house itself was warning them to stay out.
Inside, the air was colder. The smell of rot filled their noses old wood, mold, and something else… metallic. Almost like blood.
The flashlight flickered.
"Don't do that," Thabo muttered.
I didn't Lerato's words were cut short by a sudden bang.
A door slammed shut upstairs.
They all froze.
"It's probably the wind," Lerato said again, but her voice had lost its confidence.
Thabo backed toward the entrance, only to find the door shut tight. He pulled at it. Nothing. It wouldn't budge.
We're locked in, he whispered.
"I told you," Simo said quietly. This place… it's alive.
Just then, the whispering returned. But louder now. Clearer.
…get…out…
Lerato's breath caught in her throat. Her hand trembled as she pointed the flashlight toward the staircase. The light shook, revealing a set of muddy footprints fresh, wet, and leading upstairs.
"But none of us…" she started.
"They're not ours," Simo finished, his voice hollow.
Then came the scream.
They all froze. For a moment, there was only silence, broken by the occasional snap of twigs beneath their shoes and the distant hoot of an owl. Then so faint it could have been imagination they heard it. A soft, breathy hum drifting through the trees. Like a lullaby with no words.
"That's just the wind," Lerato said quickly. Too quickly.
They continued forward.
Minutes felt like hours as they trekked deeper into the forest. The trees grew thicker, their branches curling over the path like claws. Moonlight barely pierced through the canopy, and even the flashlight's beam seemed weaker here.
Then they saw it.
A crooked, decaying house stood in a small clearing, hidden behind overgrown bushes and vines. Its wooden boards were warped, its windows shattered, and the front door hung open like a mouth ready to swallow them whole.
There it is, Lerato whispered.
Nope. I'm out, Thabo said instantly, turning around.
Wait! Lerato grabbed his arm. We came all this way. Don't you want to know the truth?
I don't want to become the truth, he said, eyes wide. This place is messed up.
Simo didn't say anything. He stepped forward, staring at the house like it was calling to him.
High-pitched. Piercing. Echoing through the walls of the house like nails on glass. It didn't sound human.
"Run!" Thabo shouted.
But there was nowhere to run. Every door they tried was locked. The house had trapped them.
Lerato grabbed a nearby metal rod
maybe from an old curtain and held it out. "We need to stick together," she said firmly. "Stay close. We find another way out."
The three moved slowly through the hallway, hearts pounding in unison. The whispers now turned to low growls, like something was crawling inside the walls. Shadows danced along the corners of the ceiling, moving when nothing else did.
They passed a cracked mirror. For a second, Lerato thought she saw someone else staring back at her. A girl. Pale, wide-eyed, bleeding from her mouth. But when she blinked, it was gone.
They reached a door at the end of the hall. It looked newer than the others. Clean. Untouched. Lerato pushed it open.
Inside was a child's bedroom. Toys scattered across the floor. A tiny bed with a torn pink blanket. And on the wall… words scratched in blood-red letters:
Don't let her in.
Suddenly, Simo screamed. Lerato turned just in time to see a shadow dragging him backward into the hallway.
"Simo!!" she shouted, running after him.
But he was gone.
Just silence.
And the whispers starting again.