Romans & histoires The Haunting Of Ashburn House

"It is more than that. I feel like the walls are getting smaller. I feel like someone is standing behind me, even when I am alone. Last night, I thought I heard someone breathing outside the door." Martha frowned. she looked at the heavy wooden door. "No one knows about this house, Naomi. The doctor gave us the key in secret. The car is hidden under the trees. We are ghosts." "The Ashford family has many eyes," I whispered. "They have money. They have power. If a nurse saw me... if a driver saw me... they would tell Evelyn. And Evelyn would come for my son." Leo suddenly let out a loud laugh. He grabbed the spoon and dropped it on the floor. Clang.

"Elias, she’s so hungry." "She’s gone, Clara! That isn't her!" I shouted, though I wasn't sure who I was trying to convince. That was three nights ago. Since then, the haunting has turned aggressive. We tried to sleep in the living room, but the smell followed us—the cloying, sweet scent of lilies mixed with something sour and metallic. We found tiny, damp handprints on the glass of the television. They weren't made of dirt. They were gray, smudged traces of something that looked like ash and formaldehyde.

“Oh dear, I didn’t want to hurt you. But you made me do so. I love you and I will never hurt you. Sleep for a while till I finish my work.” A voice said as she caressed his hair. He wanted to fight back but was soon swallowed in darkness. Ansh opened his eyes he was out of the room. All the people who joined them were sitting there in fear. Ansh remembered about Shanaya. She was nowhere to be seen. He quickly stood up and went inside the Haunted House. He looked for Shama all around. Just then he heard a sob. When he reached there he saw Shama kneeling down and crying in front of a corpse.

Winslow’s hawkish eyes. With a sliver of moon twinkling off the lake, Ashleigh crawled through the shrubs and sank into the darkness at the side of the pool house. Seeing no one around, she moused across the porch, inserted the key, pushed the door back, and was immediately overcome by the foul odor of decaying blood. Bumbling back to the edge of the porch, she caught her breath, held it, and sprinted through to the bedroom where, even in the dim light, she could see the black stains on the walls, bed, and floor.

he began, his hand brushing her shoulder gently. Karen sat up, her eyes filled with a vulnerability that Adam had seen way too much of in the past week. “I know how this seems; I know you think I'm crazy, but…" Her voice was shaking now. "I saw her, Adam. I’m not mistaken; Ashley's ghost is haunting me." Adam's expression turned sympathetic. "I don't think you're crazy. You're not. And it's okay if not everyone understands; some people might misunderstand and think that—”

She stood looking between him and the phone, before finally excusing herself and going the opposite way to answer the call. "Eleven Cole street." He said to himself, glancing at the seventh, eighth and ninth house with the same street name. The house stood in front of him like a house from a horror movie. There were no lights on whatsoever and the house looked generally unlived in. He knocked twice before he twisted the knob, and noted the house was not really in use. He looked at Anne who had finally caught up with him and they got into the house quietly. The interior of the house was so dark, Asher had to switch on his phone light in order to see. Dust covered what little furniture there w

And he wondered, fleetingly, if maybe she was fighting ghosts too. They became two lonely souls under one roof, trapped in their own cages. Until one evening. Asher returned home earlier than usual, exhaustion clinging to his shoulders like a second coat. He walked through the front doors, prepared for more silence, when something unexpected pulled his steps toward the garden. And there she was.

But now, it felt haunted. Asher entered the apartment alone, the silence crashing into him like a wave. The scent of cologne and aged wood lingered in the air, but there was a faint ghost of a floral note, faded perfume from a time long gone. Vera’s scent. The phantom of her presence lingered, torturing him. He didn’t go to his room. He didn’t pour a drink. He didn’t sit down. Instead, he made his way to the security room, where feeds from every inch of the penthouse had been recorded and archived. If there were any answers, they’d be here.

book. The villagers who stood outside started to murmur, “Isn't she so devilish? Even in this state, she laughs heartily?” An old woman spat with dreadfulness glistening in her eyes. I turned and saw mother rushing down the stairs with burnt Rya in her hands, I tried to move closer but I couldn't bring myself to as the crowd murmured cloud over my senses. And so I stood still, the spell book falling from my hands. The crowd did not stop. They start to throw stones on my mother and Rya that hold on to a very tiny string of life.

Not my fault you look like the back end of a fucking bus. I slowly shake my head as I move back up the hallway toward the bedrooms. There was no reason to insult me, but yet it did not surprise me in the slightest. Nothing did with him anymore. ‘I was only wanting to find out whether you were home. I did not want insulting.’ I reply sharply, as Ash snarls inside my mind. She is liking our husband less and less. In fact I am fearful she may end up killing him in his sleep the way she is going…