The night was restless. Every creak in the floorboards, every gust of wind against the windows, seemed amplified in the silence. Ellie spent most of the night staring at the door, waiting for it to open or for someone to come in. But no one came. When morning arrived, she found the door ajar as if nothing had happened.
The oppressive feeling remained.
She ventured downstairs for breakfast, only to encounter Mr. Blackwood, the enigmatic owner of the manor. He was a tall man, with a heavy, unkempt beard, and eyes that always seemed half-lidded, as if he were seeing something just beyond her. His presence was unnerving, but Ellie tried to mask her discomfort.
“I trust you slept well?” Mr. Blackwood asked.
Ellie forced a smile. “Yes… I think so.”
He paused, his gaze drifting over her face. "The house can be a bit… overwhelming. But you’ll get used to it. It remembers everything.”
"Remembers?" Ellie asked, a shiver running down her spine.
"Yes," he said, his voice low, "The house remembers. And those who stay here are bound to its history."
His words lingered in her mind as she explored the manor. The house seemed to be alive in a way she couldn’t explain. The halls seemed to stretch endlessly, and every room felt like it had a purpose that she could never quite understand.
That evening, Ellie found herself drawn toward the east wing, a part of the house that had been mentioned by Mrs. Walker as off-limits after dark. But curiosity got the better of her. As she crept down the long corridor, the air grew colder. The floor creaked under her feet, and the walls seemed to close in.
At the end of the hallway was a door. A faint light flickered beneath it, and Ellie opened it cautiously, expecting to find something—anything—that could explain the strange sensation gnawing at her.
But inside was nothing. Just an old, full-length mirror hanging on the wall. When Ellie stepped closer, she saw her own reflection. But something wasn’t right. The image of herself in the mirror was smiling—grinning—when she wasn’t.
Frozen in fear, Ellie took a step back, and the reflection in the mirror seemed to follow her. The smile twisted, and the reflection seemed to come alive.
Without thinking, Ellie turned and ran down the corridor, the sound of footsteps echoing behind her. She could hear the whispers again—louder, clearer now. “You shouldn’t be here. You can’t leave.”
As she reached her room, she slammed the door shut, her heart pounding in her chest. The whispers, the reflection, the feeling of being watched—something was terribly wrong in Blackwood Manor.
YOU ARE READING
Whispers of Blackwood Manor
HorreurBlackwood Manor isn't just a house-it's a trap. Ellie thought she could escape the past, but when she steps inside, the whispers begin. The rooms twist, the walls close in, and the shadows have a life of their own. As Ellie unravels its dark secrets...
