The Haunting of Waverly Hill

Emma's phone slipped from her fingers, clattering to the floor.

Her stomach churned as the whisper echoed in her head, twisting through her thoughts like a parasite burrowing deep.

"You can't escape us."

She backed away from the phone like it might come alive and lunge at her. Her breath was uneven, ragged. Her shadow had returned to normal-but normal meant nothing anymore.

The house was gone. The book was destroyed. Ryan was in the hospital.

So why was this still happening?

The whisper was getting stronger.

Not just in her head.

In the room.

The air shifted. Cold. Stale. The kind of cold that seeped into your bones, the kind that didn't belong in a place where the heat had been running all night.

Then-

A creak.

Emma's eyes darted to the closet door.

It was open again.

She was sure she had shut it. She had shut and locked every door in the apartment.

Hadn't she?

She swallowed hard, her pulse hammering in her ears. Slowly, she stepped forward.

The air warped around the closet, like heat waves distorting pavement on a summer day-but it wasn't warm. It was wrong.

Her breath hitched.

Something was inside.

She reached for the door handle, hand trembling.

The whisper came again-closer this time.

"Come closer, Emma."

She yanked the door open.

Nothing.

Just her coats, a few shoes, an old box of books. The usual.

But the whisper was still here.

She turned-

And the lights went out.

Total darkness swallowed the room, thick and absolute.

Emma's pulse spiked.

The silence was unbearable. Too quiet. Like the world itself had stopped breathing.

Then-

A sound.

Slow. Deliberate.

A footstep.

Not hers.

Her throat tightened.

The darkness shifted.

Not like a shadow moving-like it was alive.

A shape loomed in the corner. It was taller than her, hunched, twisted. Its form blended with the blackness, as if the darkness itself was holding it together.

And then it moved.

A sudden, jerking lurch toward her.

Emma stumbled back, slamming against the closet door. Her chest heaved. She fumbled for the light switch-her fingers brushed it-

The whisper hissed. "Too late."

Hands. Cold. Clawed. Wrong.

They wrapped around her arms, pulling.

Emma screamed.

The grip was ice, sinking into her skin like needles. The thing dragged her forward, into the dark, into itself-

She fought. Kicked. Scratched. Her nails tore against its skin-if it even had skin-her foot struck something solid.

It let go.

She hit the ground hard, gasping, scrambling away.

The lights flickered back on.

The thing was gone.

But its handprints remained-blackened, burned into her skin.

Emma stared at them, her body trembling.

This wasn't just a haunting.

This was a curse.

The house might be gone, but whatever she had awakened had followed her home. It wasn't just whispering anymore.

It was waiting.

Watching.

And now, it had touched her.

A horrifying realization settled into her chest.

This wouldn't stop. It wouldn't leave.

Not until it got what it wanted.

Her.