Scary stories I wrote

The Forgotten Room

Jessica and Mark had been searching for a new home for months when they found the old Victorian house on the outskirts of town. It was perfect-spacious, full of character, and priced far below what they had expected. The realtor explained that it had been on the market for years, but no one seemed interested. Jessica chalked it up to the house's age and minor repairs. Mark was just happy they could finally settle down.

It was on the second day of moving in that they discovered something unusual. While stripping the wallpaper in the upstairs hallway, Jessica's hand slipped, and the wallpaper tore further than she intended. Beneath it, hidden in the wall, was the outline of a door.

"Mark, come look at this!"

Mark arrived, and together they tore away more of the wallpaper, revealing a small, old door, painted the same color as the wall to blend in. It was so well-hidden that without the tear, they never would have noticed it. Curious, Mark forced the door open.

Inside was a small room-barely large enough to be a nursery. It was pristine, untouched by time, as though someone had sealed it up years ago and forgotten about it. The room was filled with old-fashioned toys: a rocking horse, a dollhouse, and several delicate porcelain dolls sitting on a shelf. Everything was covered in a fine layer of dust, but nothing seemed disturbed.

"Who seals up a room like this?" Jessica asked, her voice echoing in the quiet space.

"I don't know," Mark said, frowning. "It's like someone just... left it. Weird."

They didn't think much of it at first. The room was creepy, but it seemed harmless enough, and they figured it was just a quirky part of the old house's history. That night, they went to bed, tired from the move.

At around 2 a.m., Jessica woke to the sound of something scraping across the floor. She nudged Mark, who groggily sat up.

"Do you hear that?" she whispered.

They both listened. The sound was faint but distinct-a slow, dragging noise, as if something heavy was being moved across wood. It was coming from above them-the forgotten room.

Mark grabbed a flashlight, and they crept upstairs. The door to the hidden room was slightly ajar, even though they were sure they had closed it earlier. As they entered, the rocking horse was slowly moving, its wooden legs scraping against the floor in the dead silence of the night.

"Maybe a draft?" Mark offered, but even he didn't seem to believe it.

Over the next few days, strange things started happening. The door to the forgotten room, no matter how many times they locked it, would always be found slightly open. The dolls on the shelf seemed to change positions when they weren't looking-just little things at first, like a head turned slightly or an arm lifted. Jessica tried to laugh it off, telling herself it was her imagination, but deep down, she felt an increasing sense of unease.

Then the whispers started.

Late at night, when the house was silent, Jessica would hear faint voices. She couldn't make out the words, but the tone was unmistakable-angry, desperate. One night, unable to take it anymore, she went back to the forgotten room. The door was open again, the rocking horse in the middle of the room, gently swaying as if someone had just climbed off it.

Suddenly, Jessica felt a cold breath against the back of her neck, followed by a child's voice, barely a whisper: "You forgot me."

She spun around, heart racing, but no one was there. She slammed the door shut and fled downstairs. When she told Mark, he tried to calm her down, but the tension between them grew. He was starting to feel it too, the sense that they weren't alone.

The next day, Jessica went to the local library to research the house's history. What she found chilled her to the bone. Decades ago, a family had lived there-a mother, father, and their little daughter, Emily. One winter, Emily had disappeared. The parents claimed they had no idea what had happened to her, but the town suspected otherwise. Shortly after, the couple sold the house and vanished. Emily was never found.

Terrified, Jessica rushed home. She burst into the forgotten room, determined to tear it apart and find out what was hidden within. As she ripped at the floorboards, Mark arrived, demanding to know what she was doing. But before she could answer, the dollhouse in the corner creaked open on its own. Jessica froze. Inside the dollhouse, there was a tiny room-an exact replica of the forgotten room they stood in-and in the miniature bed lay a tiny porcelain doll, dressed in a child's clothing, her face twisted in a silent scream.

"You forgot me." The voice echoed again, louder this time.

And then, the shadows in the room shifted.

The door slammed shut on its own, and the air grew cold. The dolls on the shelves slowly turned their heads toward Jessica and Mark, their eyes glassy and unblinking. The rocking horse started moving faster, creaking violently back and forth.

Suddenly, Mark screamed. Something invisible had grabbed him, yanking him toward the corner where the dollhouse stood. Jessica rushed to pull him away, but the force was too strong. His body contorted unnaturally, as if something was wrapping around him, suffocating him.

As Jessica watched in horror, the floor beneath Mark began to crack, the wood splintering. A child's faint laughter echoed through the room, and then-without warning-Mark was gone, swallowed by the floorboards.

The house fell silent again.

Jessica stood frozen in terror. The only sound was the slow, rhythmic creaking of the rocking horse.

Word count not including this: 970