Stories in the dark

Chapter 22: The Cursed Wish

Two friends, Liam and Tyler, had a strange hobby that they both secretly relished: exploring abandoned houses on the outskirts of town. Dusty floors, creaking stairs, and eerie silence thrilled them in a way nothing else could. They'd visit decrepit homes, wondering about the stories the walls held, half-expecting to find old letters or forgotten treasures. But most of all, they loved the thrill of the unknown.

One gloomy autumn afternoon, they stumbled upon a house that seemed more decayed than the others—a three-story relic from another era, its roof sagging, windows shattered. As they approached, the trees swayed ominously, their bare branches scraping against the house like skeletal fingers. An unspoken tension lay heavy between them, but neither backed down. They pushed the door open and ventured inside.

The air inside was thick and musty, carrying the scent of mildew and rot. They began their usual exploration, moving carefully through the darkened rooms, until, suddenly, they heard a faint shuffling sound from above them.

"Did you hear that?" Tyler whispered, his voice shaky.

"Yeah... it's coming from the attic," Liam replied, trying to sound braver than he felt.

They climbed the narrow staircase, the wood groaning under their weight. The higher they went, the colder it got, and the air grew thick with an inexplicable sense of dread. Reaching the attic door, they paused, looking at each other, silently asking if they should go through with it.

Finally, Liam pushed the door open, and they stepped into the dimly lit space. As their eyes adjusted to the shadows, they spotted something small and twisted on an old dusty table.

A grotesque, shriveled hand sat there, its fingers curled in a way that seemed... unnatural.

"Is that... a monkey's paw?" Liam asked, his voice barely a whisper.

Tyler's eyes widened. "Yeah, it's... it's a cursed object. You haven't heard the story of the monkey's paw?"

Liam shook his head, eyes fixed on the bizarre artifact.

Tyler took a deep breath, his voice dropping to a murmur. "They say it grants you three wishes. But there's a catch. Each wish comes with a price. It twists your words, making your deepest fears come true. People have lost everything because of it. The wishes might sound simple... but they never end well."

Liam laughed nervously. "That's just a story, right? I mean... it's probably just an old piece of junk. You really believe that?"

"Some things you don't mess with," Tyler said seriously, pulling his friend's arm. "Let's just leave it here and go."

But Liam smirked, pulling his arm free. He walked up to the monkey's paw, looking down at it, almost daring it. "Fine, I'll prove it to you." He placed a hand on the shriveled paw, closing his eyes.

Tyler stepped back, alarmed. "Liam, don't—"

But it was too late.

"I wish... I wish I had a thousand dollars," Liam said, laughing as he opened his eyes. "There. That wasn't so hard, was it?"

For a moment, nothing happened, and Liam chuckled, turning back to Tyler. "See? Just a bunch of—"

Before he could finish, a loud ringing filled the silence. Startled, Liam pulled his phone out. A call from an unknown number.

He answered it, still grinning. "Hello?"

The voice on the other end was calm, almost clinical. "Mr. Liam Parker?"

"Yes, that's me," Liam replied.

"We regret to inform you that your great-aunt Abigail has passed away. She left you an inheritance of exactly one thousand dollars."

Liam's grin faded. He looked up at Tyler, his face pale.

The voice continued, "Please visit our office tomorrow to claim it. Condolences to your family."

The line went dead, and silence fell between the two friends.

"See?" Tyler whispered, his voice trembling. "It's not a game."

But Liam's shock quickly turned to defiance. "It's... it's just a coincidence. That's all it is."

Tyler shook his head, backing away. "Don't push it, Liam. Just leave it alone."

Ignoring his friend's warning, Liam's fingers tightened around the monkey's paw. Anger flared in his eyes as he thought about the stupid superstition. He didn't believe in curses. He would prove it wrong. Without thinking, he clenched the paw and made another wish.

"I wish... I wish I could be somewhere far away from here, away from everything!" he spat, his voice filled with frustration.

The moment the words left his lips, a chill ran down his spine. The attic around him seemed to darken, as if the shadows were closing in. The air grew dense, pressing against him like an invisible weight. Then, in a dizzying rush, his vision blurred, and he stumbled.

When he blinked, he was no longer in the attic. Instead, he stood in a dark, cold, empty field. Fog curled around his feet, thick and oppressive, hiding the ground. There was no sign of his friend, no sign of the house... nothing. Just endless fog stretching in every direction.

Panicking, Liam tried to scream, but his voice was swallowed by the heavy mist. He felt alone, truly alone, in a way he'd never felt before. His heart hammered as he clutched the monkey's paw.

"I... I need to fix this," he whispered desperately. His hand trembled as he thought of his third and final wish. "I wish... I wish I could go back. Back to when this day started."

He closed his eyes, hoping to feel the familiar warmth of his bedroom, the comfort of normalcy. The fog around him lifted, and his surroundings began to shift.

He opened his eyes and found himself... in his room. Morning light poured through the window. He could hear his mother downstairs, clattering in the kitchen. His heart lifted in relief. He'd done it. He was back.

But as he sat up, something felt wrong. His body felt heavy, drained. He got out of bed, but the dread in his chest only deepened. He walked into the bathroom and splashed water on his face. When he looked up, his reflection stared back, but... something was off. His eyes looked hollow, his skin pale.

"Liam! Are you ready to go?" his mother called from downstairs, her voice strangely distorted.

His heart skipped a beat. He couldn't remember why, but a terrible sense of familiarity washed over him. Shaking it off, he followed the morning routine, pushing down the growing unease in his stomach.

Soon, he and Tyler were back at that abandoned house, stepping inside. Liam's footsteps felt heavier, his movements sluggish. It was like he was wading through a memory that clung to him like wet cloth. They moved through the same rooms, heard the same shuffling sound above them, climbed the stairs, and entered the attic... where the monkey's paw lay waiting.

Liam stared at it, dread twisting his insides. No matter how hard he tried to stop himself, his hand reached out, touching the shriveled paw once again. Tyler looked at him, just as alarmed, but the words were already spilling from Liam's mouth.

The wish. The call. The inheritance.

And then he was back in his bed, the same morning, the same dreadful feeling wrapping around him like a curse he couldn't escape.

No matter what he did, he'd find himself here, trapped in this nightmare, forever replaying his own mistakes. The cursed day, cycling endlessly, became his prison—a haunting reminder of the warnings he'd refused to believe.