In the shadowed corners of whispered folklore, where the veil between worlds thins, "Whispers in the Dark" emerges as a chilling collection of ghost stories by the renowned Lady Eckland and Glenn Riley. This compilation delves deep into the heart of...
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"In the hollow screams and spectral cries that echoed those warped halls, the lingering remnants of stolen innocence wandered aimlessly, longing for their torment to be exposed and their broken minds put to rest at long last."
The winding forest road was barely visible through the blinding snowstorm as Mia gripped the steering wheel, squinting into the darkness. Beside her, her boyfriend Alex was hunched over the GPS on his phone, trying in vain to make out the screen.
"Any luck?" Mia asked, tension creeping into her voice. They had planned a cozy winter getaway, just the two of them cozied up in a secluded mountain cabin. But only an hour into their drive, the once gentle flurries had whipped themselves into an unrelenting blizzard.
Alex shook his head. “No signal. Can’t even see where we are.”
Mia swore under her breath. The car inched along at barely fifteen miles per hour, the road nothing more than a dim guess against the black trees flanking them on either side. She couldn’t even make out the lines anymore. Her fingers clenched the wheel as a particularly strong gust of wind buffeted the car.
Then, through the static hiss of the windshield wipers, she saw it. Looming out of the darkness just ahead was an iron gate, set into a crumbling stone wall.
“There!” She tapped the brakes, squinting. “I think that’s...some kind of building?”
Alex looked up, hope flashing across his face. As they crept closer, the headlights illuminated a faded sign over the gate, the etched words nearly swallowed by corrosion: SAINT MARK’S SCHOOL FOR BOYS AND GIRLS. Below it, the date: 1924.
“A boarding school,” he murmured. “Must be abandoned.”
Mia pulled the car to a stop, engine idling. The old gate stood slightly ajar, and beyond it she could just make out the shape of a large building – three stories at least – framed by rows of darkened windows. Trees crowded close on all sides. If not for the gate and sign, she might have mistaken it for some old manor deep in the forest.
As if sensing her hesitation, the wind gusted again, making the car rock slightly. Mia shivered, suddenly aware of how cold her extremities had gotten despite the blasting heat.
“We can’t keep driving in this.” Alex gestured to the white maelstrom surrounding them. “We’ll get stuck or crash for sure. Maybe they have a phone, or we can just wait it out.”
Mia worried her lip. Getting stranded wasn’t exactly her idea of romantic. But she couldn’t deny the storm was getting worse. Sighing, she eased the car through the gate. “Let’s just hope it’s not full of axe murderers.”
Alex chuckled weakly.
The snow had already begun piling up by the front steps, swallowing the overgrown path. Mia tromped through the deepening powder, Alex behind her with both their bags. Her breath came in nervous puffs, bitterness clawing at the back of her throat. The dark facade of Saint Mark’s seemed to loom taller the closer they got, a behemoth of creaking wood and worn brick. All of the windows were dark, with no movement inside. Still, Mia couldn’t shake the feeling that the school was watching them.
