Late one night, Lyra found herself unable to resist the pull of the theater. She slipped into her deepest red dress, drawn toward the building as though something were summoning her. The streets were empty, the festival long over. Shadows stretched across the theater walls, the air heavy with the smell of dust and mildew.
Lyra wandered through the abandoned hallways, her footsteps soft against the worn carpet. She pushed open the door to the dressing rooms, where peeling wallpaper and dim mirrors created an eerie stillness. Each step felt weighted, as though the building itself were holding its breath.
In the furthest room, she stopped. The walls were faded to a sickly reddish-brown, and in the dim light, Lyra noticed a cracked mirror hanging on the wall. She reached out, fingertips brushing the peeling paint.
"Hush," the whisper was louder now, filling the room, vibrating through her bones.
Lyra staggered back, eyes wide. She closed her eyes, willing the voice to stop. But instead, a vision bloomed in her mind—a woman in a red dress, screaming, her hands reaching out, desperate and pleading.
When she opened her eyes, a faint, rusty stain was scrawled across the corner of the mirror. Lyra leaned in, her heart racing, and read the words:
"Don't listen to the whisper."
But she knew it was too late—the whisper was already inside her mind. She stumbled backward, thoughts racing. What if the woman was trying to warn her? Or worse, what if she was beckoning Lyra into her nightmare?
YOU ARE READING
Hush
HorrorA quiet town hides a dark history that's about to resurface, and one woman's obsession with the color red pulls her into a nightmare she may never escape. In this chilling story, Lyra Callen, a woman with an unusual affinity for red, finds herself t...
