It was the kind of house that people crossed the street to avoid, the one that children dared each other to approach but never actually touched. Sitting atop Hollow Hill, its roof sagged under decades of neglect, windows boarded up with rotting wood, and ivy creeping up its crumbling stone walls like skeletal fingers. For as long as anyone could remember, no one had lived there—or at least no one had lived there for long.
They called it *The House on Hollow Hill*, and it had been abandoned for as long as anyone in the small town of Greywater could recall. But strange stories always swirled around it—whispers of shadows seen in the windows at night, flickering lights that appeared when no one was inside, and unsettling noises that echoed from within its walls. The locals avoided it like a plague, but for Amber and her friends, it was the ultimate test of bravery.
It was a crisp autumn evening when they decided to go in. Amber had always been the skeptic of the group, rolling her eyes at ghost stories and scoffing at rumors of hauntings. She was the kind of person who believed in cold, hard facts. So, when her best friend Sam suggested they spend the night in the house as part of a Halloween dare, she couldn't resist. "Ghosts aren't real," she said confidently. "It's just an old house. What could possibly happen?"
There were four of them: Amber, Sam, Cassie, and Jason. They all had different reasons for agreeing to the dare—Sam wanted to prove his toughness, Cassie was fascinated by the paranormal, and Jason, well, he just wanted to impress Cassie. Together, they formed the perfect group for a night of ghost-hunting.
They arrived at the house just after sunset, the fading light casting long shadows over the overgrown yard. The air felt heavy with anticipation, and a chill crept up Amber's spine as she approached the front door. It was hanging crookedly on its rusted hinges, and as Sam pushed it open, it let out a groaning creak that echoed through the house's hollow halls.
Inside, the air was musty and stale, thick with the scent of mildew and decay. The floorboards creaked beneath their feet as they stepped into the foyer, the only light coming from the flashlights they had brought. The walls were lined with old, peeling wallpaper, and dusty portraits of long-forgotten people stared down at them with hollow, faded eyes.
"Alright, where do we set up?" Sam asked, his voice too loud in the oppressive silence.
"Upstairs," Cassie said, her eyes gleaming with excitement. "That's where they say most of the activity happens. Voices, footsteps, strange whispers. All the good stuff."
Amber rolled her eyes but followed the group up the grand staircase. The steps groaned under their weight, and every sound seemed to reverberate off the walls, making the house feel alive in a way that Amber didn't like. They chose a large room at the end of the hall, which had once been a master bedroom. It was cold, colder than the rest of the house, and the wallpaper here was even more faded, as if the room had been abandoned for longer than the others.
"This is perfect," Cassie said, setting down her bag. She pulled out a Ouija board, her favorite tool for contacting spirits, while Sam and Jason unpacked some snacks. Amber, on the other hand, couldn't shake the strange feeling that had settled over her. It wasn't just the cold—it was something else, something that made her skin crawl.
"Let's do this," Sam said, plopping down on the floor beside Cassie and the Ouija board. He grinned up at Amber. "Come on, you're not scared, are you?"
"Of course not," Amber muttered, sitting down with them. She wasn't scared—she was just... uneasy.
They placed their hands on the planchette, and Cassie closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. "If there are any spirits here, give us a sign," she intoned dramatically. "We come in peace. We just want to talk."
