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the rocking chair
# WritcoStoryChallenge
The old house stood dilapidated and full of memories.
its cracked windows like blind eyes staring out over the abandoned field. The porch sagged under the weight of decades, groaning when the wind passed through the brittle wooden slats. No one had lived there for years—at least, no one with a pulse.
Rachel had heard the stories. Every child in Derry knew the rumors: the house on Hemlock Road was cursed. Some said it was haunted by the spirits of a family that had vanished one winter’s night. Others whispered that it was something far older, something that fed on fear and loneliness.
But Rachel didn’t believe in ghost stories. Not until tonight.
She stood at the rusted gate, flashlight in hand, the beam slicing through the thick fog that clung to the ground like a...
The old house stood dilapidated and full of memories.
its cracked windows like blind eyes staring out over the abandoned field. The porch sagged under the weight of decades, groaning when the wind passed through the brittle wooden slats. No one had lived there for years—at least, no one with a pulse.
Rachel had heard the stories. Every child in Derry knew the rumors: the house on Hemlock Road was cursed. Some said it was haunted by the spirits of a family that had vanished one winter’s night. Others whispered that it was something far older, something that fed on fear and loneliness.
But Rachel didn’t believe in ghost stories. Not until tonight.
She stood at the rusted gate, flashlight in hand, the beam slicing through the thick fog that clung to the ground like a...
