Whispers in the Dark

The next morning arrived unnaturally quiet.

The sky was grey, heavy with clouds, as if the sun had been swallowed. Mist clung to the cabin like it didn’t want to let go, thick and unmoving. Inside, none of the girls spoke much during breakfast. The events from the night before sat in their minds like fog—unclear, but unsettling.

Adeline picked at her toast. “Did anyone else hear... whispering? Last night? Around 2 or 3?”

Scarlett looked up from her coffee. “I thought that was you talking in your sleep.”

Adeline shook her head slowly. “I wasn’t even asleep. I swear I heard someone say my name. Right outside my window.”

Ana, standing near the sink, froze. “I heard it too. But I thought I was dreaming.”

Noelle didn’t speak. She just stared into her untouched cup of tea, fingers wrapped tightly around it.

“I got up to check,” Ana continued. “Opened the curtain. But there was no one. Just fog.”

Scarlett scoffed but didn’t joke this time.

The cabin had grown darker since they arrived. It wasn’t just the clouds or the shadowed woods—something else was wrong. The kind of wrong that sank into your skin and stayed.

Later that day, they decided to hike a bit around the area—maybe clear their heads, convince themselves they weren’t losing it. Scarlett, being the most stubborn, refused to admit anything was off.

They followed a narrow trail behind the cabin. Trees leaned in like eavesdroppers. Every few minutes, one of them would glance behind, certain they were being followed—only to find nothing but empty woods.

“Wait,” Adeline said suddenly. “Did you hear that?”

Everyone stopped. There it was: a soft thump. Then another. Then the crack of a twig.

They turned just in time to see something dark vanish behind a tree.

“Probably an animal,” Scarlett muttered, but her voice lacked confidence.

Ana whispered, “No. It was standing upright.”

They rushed back to the cabin. And that’s when they saw it—on the porch.

A doll.

Porcelain. Cracked. Old. Wearing a faded blue dress. Its eyes had been gouged out, and red smears ran down its face like tears. None of them owned it. None of them brought it.

And it was sitting on the welcome mat.

Adeline bent down cautiously. The doll had something clutched in its tiny porcelain hand.

A photo.

Of them.

Taken from behind, while they were walking on the trail just half an hour ago.

Scarlett’s voice cracked. “What. The. Hell.”

Noelle backed away, nearly tripping over the step. “How—how is that even possible? Who took this?!”

No one had an answer.

They hurried inside and locked the door. Every window. Every entrance.

That night, the cabin groaned. The wind whistled through cracks in the wood like it was trying to speak. The mirror in the hallway fogged up on its own, though no one had touched it.

At 2:16 AM, Ana woke to a whisper in her ear.

Not a dream. Not her imagination.

A real voice. Right next to her head.

It said one word:

“Run.”

She jumped up, breathing hard. The others stirred, terrified. Something was scratching at the walls outside. A long, dragging sound. Slow. Purposeful.

Scarlett grabbed a flashlight and shined it at the window. What they saw made their blood freeze.

Handprints.

Small, red, and dozens of them—covering the glass.

They backed away slowly.

And in the hallway, just for a second, the cracked mirror rippled like water.

To Be Continued...

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