Whispers of Blackwood Manor

Episode 1: The Unseen Calling

Ellie Quinn, a struggling writer in her late twenties, had been facing a creative block for months. Desperate for inspiration, she received an unexpected letter one stormy evening. It was an ornate, wax-sealed envelope from a place called Blackwood Manor, inviting her to spend some time there and finish her latest manuscript in peace. The letter promised tranquility and an opportunity to experience true isolation, far away from the distractions of her chaotic life.

With little else to lose, Ellie packed her bags and drove through the night, braving the storm. The roads grew narrower and more treacherous as she reached the outskirts of the estate. When her car sputtered to a halt on the unpaved driveway, Ellie had no choice but to walk the final stretch.

The manor itself seemed to rise from the mist like an ancient sentinel, its towering silhouette dark against the stormy sky. At the door, she was greeted by Mrs. Walker, a woman whose aged features gave little away. Her deep, unsettling eyes seemed to pierce through Ellie as if she knew the secrets of everyone who set foot inside.

“Welcome to Blackwood Manor, Miss Quinn,” Mrs. Walker’s voice was soft but firm. "The house has been waiting for you."

Inside, the air was thick with dust and stale silence. The grand staircase loomed above her, and the walls were lined with dark portraits of long-dead family members. Each seemed to be watching her, their eyes following her every move.

Mrs. Walker led her to a room at the end of the hall—a spacious chamber with old, heavy furniture. As Ellie unpacked, she felt a strange unease in her chest. It wasn’t the isolation; it was the oppressive atmosphere of the house itself.

That night, as she settled into bed, Ellie heard it: a whisper. Soft at first, it seemed to echo from the walls, too faint to make out. She dismissed it as a figment of her imagination. But then, the whisper grew louder, clearer— “Come closer.”

Terrified, Ellie sat up, scanning the room. But the room was empty—no shadows, no movement. She tried to ignore it, but as she closed her eyes, a voice, deeper and more urgent, echoed from the darkness: "You shouldn’t have come."

Suddenly, the door slammed shut with a deafening crash. Ellie jumped out of bed, her heart racing. She tried to open it, but the handle was cold, unyielding. The house had trapped her.