After their parent's tragic death, sisters Wendy and Audrey are left with a hole in their lives they cannot fill. But when the grief becomes unbearable, Wendy takes a dangerous path in search of closure: an ancient Babylonian ritual to contact the s...
Mr. Daniel Reynolds and Mrs. Sophia Reynolds, seemingly the perfect couple after 20 years of marriage, shared two teenage daughters, Audrey and Wendy. While their wealth afforded them a beautiful home in the quaint town of Maplewood, Vermont, underlying tensions often bubbled beneath the surface. On a stormy night, returning from a community fundraiser at the local town hall, their argument escalated into a heated confrontation, echoing through the confines of their car.
As rain poured down and visibility dwindled, Mr. Reynolds slammed on the brakes to find the main road ahead blocked. An unnatural silence enveloped them, a chilling void that gripped the car. With anger clouding his judgment, he reversed the vehicle and veered down a dark, unfamiliar road lined with dense trees that seemed to swallow the light.
Suddenly, out of nowhere, a truck laden with heavy tree barks hurtled toward them, and a catastrophic collision ensued. Emergency services arrived quickly, but despite their efforts, both Daniel and Sophia were pronounced dead at the scene on October 12, 1999, at 11:23 PM, leaving behind an unfillable void in the lives of their daughters.
Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
In the wake of their parents' tragic death, Audrey and Wendy Reynolds were left to navigate the heavy, suffocating weight of grief. Wendy, at just sixteen, had been especially close to her mother, Sophia, making the loss feel like an unbearable void. Audrey, now nineteen, had no choice but to step into a role she wasn't ready for — caretaker, protector, and provider. The family home in Maplewood, once filled with laughter and warmth, had become a tomb of memories too painful to endure. Desperate for a fresh start, Audrey made the difficult decision to move them away.
On November 5th, 1999, just a few short weeks after the accident, the sisters relocated to Ravenswood, a small, eerie town whose aura whispered secrets to those willing to listen. Their new home was in the Ravenswood Apartments, a dilapidated but historic building with a peculiar, haunting charm. The hope was that a new environment would dull the edges of their pain, or at least offer a distraction.
Audrey had secured them a modest two-bedroom apartment on the third floor. It was small and worn, with creaking floorboards and a musty smell of age and neglect. The apartment had clearly not seen life in quite some time; furniture was draped in dusty white sheets like forgotten ghosts.
As they entered, Audrey forced a cough through the thick dust. Audrey: "God, it's like this place hasn't been touched in years... And what's with these creepy sheets over everything?" Wendy: "Are you sure we're safe here? This place looks like it's hiding secrets in every corner..."
Audrey offered a reassuring smile, though she felt the same unsettling presence in the air. Audrey: "We'll be fine. It's just an old building. Go ahead, pick your room. I'll start cleaning up out here."
With a small nod, Wendy wandered off toward the bedrooms, her fingers brushing lightly over the cold walls as if feeling for some hidden message beneath the paint. Audrey, meanwhile, sighed and rolled up her sleeves, taking stock of their situation. She couldn't let Wendy see her fear or doubt. There was too much at stake.
As Audrey started to dust and move the furniture, a sudden knock echoed through the small apartment, startling her. Her heart raced as she paused, mid-sweep, glancing towards the door.
Audrey: coughing "Who... who is it?"
An elderly voice, muffled by the thick door, responded. Old Lady's Voice: "It's me, your neighbor! Just thought I'd say hello!"
Audrey hesitated for a moment before slowly opening the door. Standing in the dim hallway was an elderly woman, her face lined with years of experience, and beside her stood an imposing German Shepherd, his dark eyes gleaming with intelligence.
Old Lady: smiling "Well, hello there! I'm Beatrice Caldwell, and this is my boy, Rex. We live just across the hall. Thought we'd stop by and welcome you to the building."
Audrey's eyes flicked from the warm smile of the old woman to the dog that stood so still, like a silent sentinel. She felt a prickle of discomfort as Beatrice referred to the dog as "her boy," but she masked it with politeness.
Audrey: "Oh... well, thank you, Mrs. Beatrice. I appreciate you stopping by. And Rex is... very well-behaved." Beatrice: "He's my pride and joy. Well, I won't keep you long. You've got a lot of settling in to do, I'm sure. But don't be a stranger! You come by anytime if you need anything."
With a soft pat on Rex's head, Beatrice turned and shuffled away, leaving Audrey to close the door with a quiet click. Audrey leaned against the door for a moment, her mind lingering on the odd encounter.
Audrey: muttering to herself "That was... strange."
Wendy emerged from the bedroom, her eyes bright with curiosity. Wendy: "Who was that?" Audrey: "Just our neighbor, Mrs. Beatrice, and her 'boy' Rex. Nice lady, but there's something about her that... I don't know." Wendy: laughing "Maybe she's a witch!" Audrey: sighing with a smile "Yeah, maybe. Anyway, did you pick a room?"
Wendy: "Yeah, the left one is tiny, so I'm taking the bigger room. Hope you don't mind." Audrey: "That's fine. You've earned it."
Later that evening, the sisters had made the apartment somewhat livable, though the air still carried a chill that clung to them like a shroud. They ordered pizza, unable to muster the energy to cook after the exhausting day.
Audrey: "This pizza is actually better than I thought. Maybe this place has some perks after all."
Wendy: "Yeah, but you're eating like you haven't eaten in days. Slow down!"
Audrey: laughing "I'm just hungry. Anyway, finish up. We've got school tomorrow, and I need to start looking for a job."
Wendy: pausing "Wait... you're going to work now?"
Audrey: sighing deeply "Yeah, Wendy. We can't rely on what mom and dad left us forever. I'll find something easy, maybe at a café or a bar. But don't worry — we'll be okay."
Wendy's face softened, but her eyes welled with unshed tears. Wendy: "I just... I miss them, Audrey. I don't feel like myself anymore. Everything feels wrong." Audrey: embracing her "I miss them too, kiddo. But we have to keep going. I'm here for you, no matter what. We'll get through this together."
Audrey spoke with a strength she didn't feel, trying to hide the cracks in her own armor. In truth, she was barely holding on, struggling with her own grief while shouldering the burden of her sister's well-being.
Audrey: "It's late. Let's get some rest. Tomorrow's a big day." Wendy: nodding "Yeah... good night, Audrey."
That night, as Wendy lay in bed, sleep eluded her. Her mind replayed the horrific images of her parents' broken bodies at the hospital — the blood, the stillness. Her heart raced as she tried to shake the memory, but it clung to her like a shadow.
In the other room, Audrey sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the darkened window. She felt like a stranger in her own life. Tears silently slipped down her cheeks, though she made no sound. She couldn't afford to be weak. Not now.
And in the silence of Ravenswood Apartments, something stirred in the shadows...
