Abandoned Farmhouse Novels & Stories

I am certain the food is delicious but everything turns to ash in my mouth as I think about what lies ahead. The mood is dark and tense as we set out for the farm, the hour drive is no less tense than the rest of the morning, in fact the tension grows thicker as we near our destination. Finally, we pull up to an old sheep farm. It seems abandoned as we climb out of the vehicle and Dorian, my mates and I step into the barn…we find it empty of anything but old hay and a sign that reads, “Guess again, Bitch!” We search all of the buildings and finding them in the same state, I drop to my knees, wailing in desperation.

They breathed because she had not yet told them to still their lungs. Ahead, the farmhouse sat in a shallow clearing, its windows dark, its frame leaning slightly like a weary traveler. To the untrained eye it was abandoned. To her, it was alive. The air carried the faintest tremor—wood creaking beneath cautious steps, glass whispering against its frame as if someone had dared to draw it down too far. She had hunted enough prey to recognize the signs. They were inside.

Katherine thought with a smile before leaving the lounge. At the western county, it’s already mid-afternoon, Sam stops at an old farmhouse, and he looks at his boss through the review mirror as it’s where the map took them. “This place looks ridiculous,” Alex said for Sam to nod in agreement. The house looks shabby and abandoned which gives a scary vibe. “Should I go and check boss?” He asked for Alex to sigh as he looked at the rough farmhouse like it’s been abandoned for years, “We will check in together, lock the door once I step out,” Alex said covering sleeping Hazel with his coat before stepping out. After Sam made sure the door was locked he followed Alex as the walk towards the house

"Okay. We will hide and snoop from afar.” "Good boy. Besides, if it turns out that those guys have backup assassins to chase Rafe all the way to this place, we'd be safer by not showing up in the middle of their fight." Gaston's car headed north, then turned into an abandoned farm that had been abandoned by its owner. There was a farmhouse and barn with the door wide open. Gaston shoved his car into the barn and stopped at a dry, rotting haystack. "Have you ever been to this place before?"

The sky was clear for the first time in weeks, the stars bright and cold, scattered like diamonds across a black cloth. The new safe house was a farmhouse at the end of a dirt road, surrounded by fields and old oaks. The grass was tall, dry, rustling in the wind. No neighbors. No streetlights. No cameras. No one knew about it except Julian. He had bought it years ago and never used it. He said it was time. He said it was safe. I did not believe him. Nothing was safe. But I was too tired to argue. My bones ached. My eyes burned.

From what they can see, there is a farmhouse that is rather small which made the vision of the rest of the land seeable to her thanks to her eyes and the forest grounds being on a slope of sorts. The farmhouse is old and worn out. It's white paint and animal furs that hand within the windows is all dirty. The paint itself is due for another few coats but at this point, the house should really be burnt to the ground. Connecting to the left side of the house is a canopy that has a few horses but on the gravel surface under that covering is a trap door that leads to the underground. This trap door is guarded by a goblin that is nearly passed out on a chair. Just by him is a table with an empty

There were no words that could mean anything at that moment. Later that afternoon, I met with the federal team that had been assigned to the case. They had traced a series of property transactions linked to the Harrisons. A farmhouse had been bought under an alias about a decade ago in a quiet rural area, far from the city. It was small, remote, and rarely visited. The lead agent spread out several grainy photos across the table. One of them showed a rundown building surrounded by overgrown grass. “We believe this is the place,” he said.

Fear always proved otherwise. I opened the front door and stepped inside the old farmhouse. From the outside it looked abandoned. Peeling paint clung to weathered wood. Several windows had been boarded shut years ago, while weeds swallowed what used to be a gravel driveway. Anyone driving past would assume the place had been empty for decades. Exactly how I liked it. No registered address. No utility records. No paper trail. As far as everyone was concerned… This place didn’t exist. The floor creaked beneath my boots as my men dragged Lyra inside behind me. Tears streamed down her face, and muffled sobs escaped between shaky breaths.

A stranger who appeared out of nowhere, spoke like he knew too much, and threw her into a nightmare she never asked for. And yet— He had taken a bullet for her. That wasn’t something you ignored. That wasn’t something you forgot. --- Elena pushed open the door to an abandoned café, the bell above it giving a weak chime before falling silent again. Empty. Dark. Safe… for now. She locked the door behind her and leaned against it, her body trembling—not from fear alone, but from everything crashing down at once. Her husband was dead. Her life was gone. And now she was running from people she didn’t even understand.

Russo’s FArmhouse:- The moon hung low in the night sky, casting an ethereal glow over Mr. Russo's secluded farmhouse. Hidden from prying eyes, the sprawling estate harbored secrets that echoed through its darkened corridors. Hunter arrived, shrouded in the darkness, his footsteps muffled against the soft crunch of gravel. Evelyn, the puppet master of this elaborate scheme, welcomed him with a calculating smile. Russo, a figure cloaked in shadows, observed their alliance with an air of satisfaction. The trio convened in the opulent living room, a setting that mirrored the clandestine nature of their collaboration.