Whispers in the Moonlight
Warnings: Mild violence (exploring a haunted house, injuries) Horror elements (ghostly apparitions, eerie atmosphere) and Oh no two girls kiss (sarcasm; it's a mild kiss anyway)
・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . ・ 。゚☆: .☽ .☆
As Aisha and I step out of the car, the crisp autumn air fills my lungs. We stand in front of the towering iron gates that marks the entrance to Waverley House, my gaze drifting upwards to the looming manor. The moon hangs low in the sky, casting a warm glow over the dilapidated fence and overgrown gardens that surround the estate. The silence is almost eerie, save for the distant howl of an owl in the distance.
Aisha clasps her hands nervously, her eyes darting back and forth between me and the house. "Are you sure we should be doing this, PJ? I mean, this could be really dangerous…" she trails off, her voice tinged with fear.
I smile reassuringly and place a comforting hand on her shoulder. "Don't worry, Sha. We'll be fine. Besides, I've done my research. It's not gonna fall on us." I take a deep breath and squash down the nervous flutter in my own stomach. "Now, let's just get inside and start our investigation."
As we make our way towards the gate, I notice the wrought ironwork is covered in a layer of dust and grime. The lock is old and rusty, but it gives way easily under my pushing. With a creak, the gate swings open, revealing the overgrown path that leads up to the house. The grounds are silent, save for the crunch of fallen leaves beneath our feet.
Aisha hesitates before stepping inside, her gaze darting around nervously. "PJ, do you think we should…?" she begins, her voice barely more than a whisper. I take her hand in mine, offering her reassurance.
"Trust me?" I ask softly, searching her eyes for an answer. She bites her lip, uncertainty flickering across her features. Then, finally, she nods. Her hand squeezes mine, and we step forward into the overgrown path leading up to the house. The air feels heavy with anticipation and a sense of foreboding.
As we approach the front steps, I glance over at Aisha, admiring the way the fading light plays with her dark hair. The moonlight dances in her dark eyes, making them appear even larger and more expressive. She shivers slightly, pulling down her cardigan's sleeves to cover her hands.
"Are you cold?" I ask, concern creeping into my voice.
"Yeah." she whispers, "A bit." Her breath clouds the air between us as we stand on the steps, gazing up at the grandiose manor. The moon casts an eerie glow on the wrought iron banister and the crumbling masonry of the porch. The air is thick with anticipation, and I can feel my heart racing in my chest.
"Here." I say, slipping out of my leather jacket and draping it over Aisha's shoulders. And I hope it offers her a bit of protection against the chill in the air. She looks up at me, surprise flashing across her face, before hesitantly accepting it. I smile reassuringly.
"You're mad." She whispers as I push the door open. "It's freezing and you're in a sundress." She shakes her head, following me inside. The old manor house is dark. I take out my phone, switching on the flashlight app to light our way.
We walk through the grand entrance hall, the sound of our footsteps echoing eerily off the marble floor. The air feels thick with dust and the musty smell of old wood. The chandelier hanging overhead casts eerie shadows on the walls. Aisha hesitates at the base of the grand staircase, gripping my arm tightly.
"Do you really think we should go up there?" she whispers, her voice barely audible.
"That's where people say they see her, Sha." I say softly, leading her up the stairs. "We need to find out what's going on." My footsteps echo as I walk up the old wooden steps, the sound magnified by the high ceilings and empty room. Aisha's breathing quickens as we ascend, her grip on my hand growing tighter.
At the top of the stairs, we're greeted by a long hallway with several doors on either side. I shine my phone's light around, revealing dusty furniture and portraits of long-dead people. The air feels colder here, making the fine mist of Aisha's breath visible.
"Which one should we try first?" she whispers, her voice barely audible over the sound of our breathing. I hesitate for a moment, scanning the doors along the hallway.
"I don't know," I say, my heart racing in my chest. "Maybe the one at the end."
Aisha nods, swallowing hard. "Okay."
We walk slowly down the hall, the sound of our footsteps muffled by the thick carpet. My heart is racing as I approach the door, I try to turn the knob but it's locked. I glance around, searching for something that might help us. I spot a small key sitting on a nearby hallway table and quickly grab it.
"Here, let me try this." I say, inserting the key into the lock and twisting it. There's a click and the door swings open, revealing a dimly moonlit room inside. Aisha hesitates for a moment, then takes a deep breath and steps inside.
The room is small, with a four-poster bed pushed against one wall and a dresser against another. There's a strange sense of calmness here, despite the eerie light. Aisha takes a tentative step further into the room, her gaze darting around, taking in every detail. The bed is made, the sheets pristine and smooth. The dresser holds only a few items: a porcelain doll, a framed photograph, and a small jewelry box.
Aisha opens a draw of the dresser and pulls out a little brown book. The cover is worn and faded, but I can make out the name "Eleanor" written on the front in delicate script. She flips it open, revealing pages and pages of handwritten text. She begins to read, "May 10th 1906, Today is my birthday. I am finally 16 years old…" Her voice trails off, her expression growing more and more concerned.
As she reads, the room seems to grow colder, and the light from my phone flickers erratically. The sound of sobbing fills the air, growing louder and more desperate. Suddenly, a figure materializes out of the shadows. It's a young woman, dressed in a long, flowing gown. Her hair is loose and wild around her face, and her eyes are red and swollen from crying; it's a bloodcurdling sight.
"SHA!" I shout, jumping in surprise. Aisha gasps, her hand flying to her mouth in shock. The ghostly woman looks at us with pleading eyes, tears streaming down her face. I grab her hand and run out of the room, pulling Aisha with me. We slam the door shut and turn the lock, our hearts pounding in our chests.
"What the hell was that?" Aisha whispers, her voice shaking.
"What? This whole time you didn't think the stories were real?" She asks, incredulous. I can't meet her eyes, feeling guilty for playing it up. The cold air from the hallway seeps into my bones, making me regret wearing a sundress.
"I'm sorry Sha." I say, hugging her "I shouldn't have been so…"
"It's alright." She says softly, giving me a reassuring squeeze. "But let's get out of here. I've had enough creepiness for one night." I nod in agreement, my heart still racing. We quickly make our way back down the stairs, my eyes darting around nervously at every shadow.
The door is closed. We left it open… right? I can't remember. My heart is still racing as I hesitantly reach out to touch the handle, feeling the cool metal against my sweaty palm. I take a deep breath and turn it. It won't open. I try again, and again, but it's locked. Aisha stands beside me, she places her hand on mine.
"It's no use PJ." She says softly, "It's locked. We should try finding another way out." She looks around, her eyes darting from one dark corner to another. The house seems to close in on us, the air growing heavier by the second.
"Or maybe we should try calling for help?" I suggest, my voice shaking.
Aisha nods, and pulls out her phone. She dials 000, but nothing happens. The phone screen goes black, and there's a loud, static-y noise. "Uh oh…" she whispers, looking worried.
"Maybe it's just the house…" I offer, trying to sound more confident than I feel. "Let's try to find another way out, like you said." Aisha nods. Together, we begin to explore the house, searching for another exit. We open doors and peek into empty rooms, feeling a sense of dread growing with each room we pass.
"Does this place not have a bloody back door!" I exclaim, frustration getting the better of me. Aisha glances at me, her expression calm. She places a reassuring hand on my shoulder.
"I think if we can find the kitchen, there will be a back door." Aisha says, her voice steady. I nod, feeling a little calmer at the thought of trying something new. We continue to search, our footsteps echoing through the empty house.
Finally, we find what appears to be a door, wedged shut by a large piece of furniture. "Think this is it?" I ask, pushing against the heavy chair. With a creak, it slides aside, I open the door and we both gasp as
light floods the room. The kitchen is bathed in a warm, inviting glow, and I feel a wave of relief wash over me.
"Come on," I say, grabbing Aisha's hand and leading her through the door. As we step into the kitchen, the darkness seems to recede, and the air feels less oppressive. I spot a back door at the far end of the room, and make a beeline for it.
Aisha looks around, her eyes darting from one object to another. "Wait, PJ…" she starts, but I'm already trying to pull the door open. It's stuck, I pull and pull but it won't open. My heart begins to race again. "PJ, it's locked!" Aisha yells, a note of panic in her voice. I turn to face her, breathing heavily, and she's staring at me with wide eyes.
"It's okay," I manage to say, my voice shaking. "We'll find another way out." I reach out to touch her cheek, wiping away a tear that's escaped from her eye. She leans into my touch, her breath warm on my skin. "We'll be okay," I whisper, trying to convince myself as much as her.
She pulls me into a tight hug, I bury my face in her chest. I can feel her heart racing beneath her soft sweater. "I love you, PJ," she whispers, her voice shaking. Her words send a wave of warmth through me, despite the cold air and the fear that still lingers in the house.
We stand there for a moment, holding each other, as if we could somehow protect one another from whatever darkness has been following us. I close my eyes, taking in the scent of her vanilla perfume and the sound of her heartbeat. "I love you, too." I say, my voice barely audible. She pulls back, just enough to look into my eyes, and there's something so intense in her gaze that it takes my breath away.
"I don't mean it as a best friend, PJ." She whispers. "I really love you." Her words send a shiver down my spine, and I feel myself growing even more aware of her arms around my shoulders.
"I-I, Aisha, I'm so glad you said that," I stammered. I feel my heart racing, my cheeks flushing.
She cups my face in her hands, her eyes searching mine intently. "Since when have you been a lesbian?" she asks, her voice laced with both curiosity and disbelief. Her touch sends a wave of warmth through me, making my heart race even faster. I want nothing more than for her to kiss me.
"Would you come out if you had my parents?" I ask, a small laugh escaping me. "They'd probably have a heart attack if they found out. Maybe even kick me out."
"You could live with me." She whispers, her fingers tracing my cheekbone. "My parents know I'm Bi and are cool about it. They wouldn't care."
"We have to get out of here first." I say, still reeling, but I can feel the adrenaline from the fear subsiding, replaced by a warmth that spreads through my body. "Then we can figure out what to do." I lean in, my lips brushing against hers. It's a tentative kiss, more of a question, and she responds by pulling me closer, kissing me back with no hesitation. Her lips are soft and warm against mine, and the taste of her cherry lip gloss makes me smile.
She pulls away, "Let's get out of this stupid house." We race through the dark hallways, hearts pounding, trying to find a way out. The front door is locked, so is the back, and the windows are barred. Panic begins to set in as we search for another exit.
A hazy mist begins to fill the rooms, obscuring our vision. "Maybe there's something we can use to smash the door open." I suggest, my heart racing. Aisha nods in agreement and we start searching the house for something heavy. In the living room, we spot a large, wooden chest. It's heavy and sturdy, perfect for smashing through the door. With shaking hands, we lift it and carry it down the hall.
We position the chest against the door, balancing it on its edge. "On the count of three, okay?" I say, my voice trembling. Aisha nods, her eyes wide with fear. I count down, and on three, we push the chest as hard as we can. It hits the door with a loud crash, splintering the wood and sending us stumbling backwards. We catch our balance and push again, smashing a hole in the door just enough to squeeze through.
I let Aisha go first, and she slid through the hole in the door. I follow close behind, and as I squeeze through the narrow gap, I feel heat rush through my arm as it scraps against the splintered wood. Blood slowly trickles down my skin. The cold night air stings my arm as I emerge from the house, but relief washes over me as I take my first breath of fresh air.
"God! PJ. If you were wearing your jacket." Aisha says, looking at my injured arm. I'm in too much shock to even feel pain. "You okay?" She asks, touching my arm gently. I nod, feeling a little silly.
"Well someone was cold…" I tease, still feeling the warmth from her touch. I look around, taking in our surroundings. The moon above us. The car is a good distance away, beyond the iron gate. The overgrown gardens and the overgrown path that leads back the way we came.
"I've got a first aid kit in the car." She says, taking my hand and pulling me down the stairs and path, careful to avoid twigs and stones. The air is cold, but she keeps holding my hand, her grip warm and reassuring. As we approach the car, I feel relief wash over me.
Aisha opens the back door of the car and reaches in, rummaging through a bag until she finds the first aid kit. She takes my injured arm and carefully cleans the wound with an antiseptic wipe. The stinging sensation is brief but sharp, and I wince a little. She places a small bandage over the cut, pressing gently on it to get it to stick.
She leans down placing a soft kiss on it, her breath warm against my skin. "There you go. All better." I feel a hot flush move up from my stomach, up my chest and into my cheeks. Aisha looks at me and smiles. "You're all pink, PJ" She teases, laughing lightly.
I try to laugh too, but it comes out a little shaky. "Yeah, well… it's just…" I say, my voice barely above a whisper. I walk over to the passengers side and swing the door open. "We should go… Before the ghost tries to get us…"
Aisha climbs into the car, and I get in after her, still a little shaky. Aisha starts the engine and leans down placing a cassette tape in the radio and it starts playing "Carry On Wayward Son” by Kansas. She smiles at me, and I feel my heart skip a beat.
She pulls out of the driveway, glancing at me as the car accelerates. She speeds down the empty road, the wind in her hair and the music filling the car. I feel a weight lift from my chest, a sense of relief and freedom washing over me. Not from leaving the haunted house, but from finally telling her how I feel.
・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . .・ 。゚☆: .☽ . ・ 。゚☆: .☽ .☆
The Hidden Room
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