The cabin of mischief

~Chapter 9~Whispers in the Dark

Isabella's eyes fluttered open, her senses on high alert as she lay in bed. The room was dark, but the faint glow of moonlight seeped through the cracks in the curtains, casting an eerie glow over the walls. Blake was still asleep beside her, his arm draped over her waist, holding her close. She could feel his warm breath against her neck, steady and calm, a stark contrast to the cold chill creeping through the room.

She wasn't sure what had woken her—maybe it was just a bad dream, or the cabin's unsettling energy seeping into her sleep. But then she heard it again: faint, almost inaudible whispers just outside the door. It was as if someone was speaking in hushed tones, the words too garbled to make out, but still enough to send a shiver down her spine.

Isabella carefully lifted Blake's arm and slipped out of bed, moving as quietly as possible so she wouldn't wake him. She tiptoed across the room, each creak of the floorboards echoing louder in the stillness. Her pulse quickened as she reached for the door handle. She hesitated, her hand trembling slightly, before taking a deep breath and turning the knob.

The hallway beyond was empty, shrouded in darkness except for the faint glimmer of moonlight spilling in from a nearby window. Isabella squinted into the shadows, her ears straining to pick up any sign of the whispers. But there was nothing—just the silence of the cabin, which somehow felt heavier than before.

"Hello?" she called out softly, her voice barely more than a whisper itself. "Is someone there?"

No response. She stepped further into the hall, her bare feet feeling the chill of the wooden floor. As she glanced toward the other rooms, a creeping sense of dread washed over her. The whispers had sounded so close, like someone was standing right outside her door, and yet... there was no one in sight.

Isabella turned to head back to the bedroom, her nerves prickling with unease. But just as she reached for the door, the whispers came again, louder this time, and seemingly from all around her. They seemed to drift from the walls, the ceiling, even the floor beneath her. She froze, her breath catching in her throat.

She tried to focus, to make out what the voices were saying, but the words twisted and warped into gibberish. It was as if multiple people were speaking at once, overlapping each other in a chaotic, unnerving chorus.

"Shut up," she whispered harshly to herself, shaking her head as if it would help clear the sounds. Her secret—the fact that she was a psychic medium—was something she had kept hidden for a long time. She could sense things that others couldn't, hear voices no one else could. But she had always done her best to ignore it, to act like it was just a trick of her imagination.

Now, though, it felt like the cabin was amplifying it, making it impossible to block out.

Isabella glanced toward the end of the hall, where the darkness seemed to thicken, almost as if it was alive and moving. She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears, and took a tentative step forward.

"Fuck this," she muttered, turning back toward her room. But as she did, a figure appeared at the edge of her vision—a shadowy silhouette that seemed to materialize out of nowhere, standing just outside the doorway to Sienna, Violet, and Chad's room.

Isabella's breath hitched, and she felt a cold sweat break out on the back of her neck. She blinked, and the figure was gone, leaving nothing but the dark, empty hallway behind.

She hurried back into the bedroom, closing the door behind her and locking it, as if that would somehow keep the darkness at bay. She leaned against the door, trying to steady her breathing, and glanced back at Blake, who was still sound asleep, blissfully unaware of the unease filling the cabin.

Isabella crawled back into bed, slipping under the covers and pressing herself against Blake's warm body. She took his hand and held it tightly, as if trying to anchor herself to reality. His arm instinctively wrapped around her waist, pulling her close again. She didn't know if he was awake or if it was just a subconscious reaction, but the comfort of his embrace made her feel slightly less alone in the darkness.

Still, she couldn't shake the feeling that she wasn't imagining things. The whispers, the figure in the hallway—there was something in this cabin, something more than just the old wood and creaking floors. And deep down, she knew she wasn't the only one who sensed it.

Isabella's psychic abilities had always been a source of anxiety for her, a secret she kept even from her closest friends. She had never told Blake, not even after all the years they'd known each other, because she didn't want to be seen as some kind of freak. But right now, she wished she could just explain it to him, wake him up and tell him everything. Maybe if he knew, he'd understand the terror she was feeling in a way no one else could.

But instead, she buried the fear, just like she always did. She let Blake's steady breathing lull her back into a restless sleep, even as the whispers continued to echo faintly in the back of her mind.

The next morning, the group gathered around the dining table for breakfast. Isabella sat beside Blake, her eyes tired and her mood subdued. As the others chatted and joked, she couldn't help but glance toward the hallway every now and then, half-expecting to see that shadowy figure again.

"You okay?" Violet asked, nudging her with a concerned look. "You look like you didn't get much sleep."

"I'm fine," Isabella lied, forcing a smile. "Just... this place is weird, you know?"

"You're telling me," Sienna chimed in. "I swear I heard someone walking around last night, but when I got up to check, there was no one there. Thought I was losing my mind."

Isabella's stomach twisted. So, it wasn't just her. The others were feeling it too, even if they didn't know the full extent of what was going on.

"Yeah, I thought I heard something too," Isabella said, her voice carefully casual. "Probably just the wind or something."

"Or the ghosts," Chad joked with a grin, trying to lighten the mood. "Maybe this place really is haunted."

"Well, if we start seeing shit, then I'll believe it," Jeremy said, smirking. "But until then, y'all are just paranoid."

As the group resumed their conversation, Isabella's thoughts drifted back to the whispers and the figure in the hall. There was something in this cabin, something dark and uninvited. And if the others hadn't realized it yet, she knew it was only a matter of time before they did.