It was after they returned downstairs, still trembling from their encounter in the attic, that Jason broke the silence. ‘What the heck was that, Claire?’ he said, his voice slightly raised with impatience. ‘You said it was just your imagination!’
Claire, struggling to regain her composure, looked at Jason. ‘I-I didn’t know it would turn out to be real! You heard it. That mask—it was floating!’ Annoyed, Tom interjected, ‘Okay, let’s not freak out too much. It’s probably just a draft or something.’ But even he couldn’t entirely shake off the fear that gnawed at his mind.
‘Drafts don’t make masks float, Tom,’ Sarah said, with a hint of sarcasm. ‘If anything, this is good material for a video.’ They had almost forgotten about Tom’s plan to document their spooky adventure until this point.
‘Yeah, if you can still film while running away!’ Anna snapped back, her nerves getting the best of her. She took a deep breath, trying to regain control. ‘How about we just stay together and make a plan?’
Suddenly, a loud crash erupted from the other room. The group turned in unison, eyes wide. ‘I swear I locked that door,’ Anna stammered, and tension surged among them as if the storm itself mirrored their fear.
‘Let’s split up,’ Jason suggested suddenly, with a reckless sparkle in his eyes. ‘I’ll go check it out!’ ‘You must be joking,’ Claire exclaimed in disbelief. ‘You want to walk into whatever that is alone?’
Tom, still caught up in his playful persona, agreed. ‘I’m with you, man. What if we find another ghost?’ ‘You two are insane!’ Anna interjected, grabbing Jason’s arm. ‘We will go together, all of us!’
‘Okay, but we need light to see,’ Sarah chimed in, rummaging through the belongings in the living room until she found a flashlight. ‘Now, everyone get close. I don’t want to lose any of you.’
As they walked cautiously towards the source of the noise, the wind howled, making it sound like anguished whispers echoing through the halls. The air grew heavy, and every footstep seemed to reverberate like a drum in the charged atmosphere. ‘This isn’t just an old house, is it?’ Claire shivered.
Reaching the room where they’d heard the crash, their eyes widened. It was littered with old, broken furniture, but what caught their attention was a solitary, old book lying open on the floor, pages fluttering as if swept by an invisible hand.
Tom, ever the brave one, approached the book with curiosity. ‘Come look at this!’ He squatted next to it, tilting his head as he read aloud, ‘The Ritual of Forgetting.’ A chill ran down their spines.
‘What’s that supposed to mean?’ Sarah asked, peering over his shoulder. Suddenly, Anna noticed something behind Tom: a shadow shifting against the wall, moving swiftly and silently as if avoiding detection. ‘Tom! Look out!’ she shouted, and in panic, he whipped around.
But whatever it was had already vanished into thin air. Realizing they were not alone, panic completely enveloped the group. Tom’s face went pale as he felt an ice-cold hand brush against his back. ‘Letters from the past often reveal the darkest truths,’ came a raspy voice from the air.
Screams erupted as they stumbled backward, a whirlwind of bodies and voices, knocking into one another in their chaotic retreat. Claire picked up her sketchbook and managed to tear herself away, screaming for all of them to stick together. ‘Back to the main room! We need to regroup!’
As they fled to safety, catching their breath in the hall, they realized that the book now lay closed, as if the manor had decided it wouldn’t reveal its secrets so easily. ‘We’re trapped in this place, aren’t we?’ Jason whispered, dread settling between them like a thick fog.
Anna shook her head, determined not to give in. ‘We’ll figure this out. We have to. We didn’t come here to abandon each other.’ Just then, the clock in the main room chimed ominously, reminding them that this night was far from over. Outside, the storm picked up, howling like the spirits that haunted Elmsworth, closing in around them. They had awakened something and there was no turning back now as they looked at each other—fear mixed with a strange thrill, knowing they were, without a doubt, a part of the manor’s legacy now.