Kreepy's Chronicle

My Lost Love, Miguel

It was a foggy autumn evening when Kara, Jace, Noah, Sarah, and Marco decided to explore the old abandoned house on the outskirts of town. The house had been rumored to be haunted for decades, and the group of friends were eager to see if the stories were true.

As they walked up to the front door, Marco felt a cold chill run down his spine. He hesitated for a moment, but the others were already pushing the door open and stepping inside. The interior of the house was dimly lit, the only light coming from the fading daylight filtering through the boarded-up windows.

The floorboards creaked beneath their feet as they walked further into the house. Kara shivered and wrapped her arms around herself, feeling a sense of unease wash over her. Jace joked nervously, trying to lighten the mood, but even his laughter sounded hollow in the eerie silence of the house.

Noah and Sarah held hands, drawing comfort from each other as they explored the dusty rooms and hallways. Marco trailed behind the group, his eyes scanning the shadows for any sign of danger. He had never believed in ghosts or supernatural beings, but the oppressive atmosphere of the house made him question his skepticism.

Suddenly, they heard a faint sound echoing through the house. It was a soft, mournful cry that seemed to be coming from somewhere nearby. The group froze, exchanging wary glances as the crying grew louder and more desperate.

"It sounds like a little girl," Sarah whispered, her voice trembling. "We have to find her and make sure she's okay."

They followed the sound of the crying, their footsteps echoing in the empty house. The cries led them to a small room at the end of the hallway, where a ghostly figure stood in the corner, her back turned to them. Her long, white dress billowed around her as she sobbed softly.

Kara took a step forward, her heart pounding in her chest. "Are you okay?" she asked tentatively.

The figure turned around slowly, revealing a pale, tear-streaked face with hollow eyes. She reached out a hand towards the group, her voice a whisper on the edge of their hearing. "Help me...please..."

Without warning, the ghostly figure lunged towards them, her form twisting and contorting in a horrifying manner. Noah and Sarah screamed, trying to run, but the ghost was too fast. She reached out with spectral hands, her touch icy cold and suffocating.

One by one, the group of friends fell to the ground, their bodies contorted and broken by the ghost's relentless attack. Marco watched in horror as his friends were killed before his eyes, unable to do anything to stop it.

As the ghost turned towards him, Marco felt a surge of fear unlike anything he had ever experienced. He stumbled backward, trying to find a way out of the room, but the door was stuck shut. The ghost's cries echoed in his ears, mingling with his friends' screams of terror.

In a last-ditch effort to escape, Marco lunged for the window, breaking through the boarded-up glass with a desperate strength he didn't know he possessed. He stumbled out into the cool night air, gasping for breath as he collapsed on the ground outside.

As he lay there, shaking with fear and grief, he heard a soft voice behind him. Turning, he saw the ghostly figure standing in the window, her expression no longer filled with anger and pain. Instead, there was a sense of peace and longing in her hollow eyes.

"You remind me of him," the ghost said softly, her voice echoing through the night. "My lost love, Miguel. I thought I had to keep searching for him, but now I see...he was with me all along."

With those words, the ghostly figure faded away, leaving Marco alone in the darkness. He knew that he would never forget the horror of that night, or the friends he had lost. But as he stood up and walked away from the haunted house, he felt a sense of closure and acceptance wash over him.