We rolled into Sagebrush just as the last rays of light disappeared behind the distant hills. I stared out the window, my breath fogging the glass, watching the town drift by in slow motion. Everything felt too quiet, like the whole place was holding its breath, and the only sound was the crunch of our tires on gravel.

Mom and Dad unpacked in the kitchen, but I drifted upstairs, my sneakers squeaking on the warped floorboards. My room looked exactly as I remembered—except for the window, which wouldn’t quite close, letting in a cool draft that made the curtains flutter. As I set my backpack down, I caught my reflection in the cracked mirror, but for a split second, it looked like someone was standing behind me.

Sleep wouldn’t come, so I lay awake listening to the house groan. Somewhere below, a floorboard creaked—too heavy to be just the wind. I sat up, heart pounding, and the whispering seemed to grow louder, like it was coming from the hallway just outside my door.

I grabbed my phone for a flashlight and stepped into the hall, every hair on my arm standing up. The air felt colder here, and when I glanced at the photos, I could swear the faces were different—smiles twisted into frowns, eyes a little too wide. At the end of the corridor, the attic door was open, swaying slightly as if inviting me in.

I climbed the narrow staircase, my footsteps echoing in the cramped space. The attic stank of mold and rust, but what caught my attention were those markings—circles and jagged lines, smeared like they’d been drawn in a hurry. My phone’s beam landed on a ragged old coat, and I heard a voice behind me, low and urgent—"You shouldn’t be here."

I spun around, but the attic was empty except for me. Suddenly, the door slammed shut, plunging me into darkness. The whispering returned, louder this time, swirling all around me—"Go. Now. Before it finds you." My hands shook as I fumbled for the latch, finally bursting out and racing down the stairs, not daring to look back.

I didn’t sleep the rest of the night. When the sun rose, everything looked almost normal again, but I knew better. Something was waiting in that house, something that had been there long before we arrived. And if I listened closely, I could still hear the faintest whisper, promising it wasn’t finished with me yet.