Ny's Writing Blog ✍️

They said the house on Magpie Road had been abandoned for decades—just rotting wood, boarded windows, and a yard that seemed to grow weeds faster than sunlight. But the truth was that something inside it never slept.

And when the five teens stepped inside, it woke up hungry.

Lena was the first to cross the threshold. She swore the air shifted—like the walls exhaled after holding their breath too long. Behind her, Jayden, Marla, Theo, and Cass followed, laughing and shoving each other.

None of them noticed the door swing shut on its own.
None of them saw the dark smear above the frame pulse once, like a pupil dilating.

—

The First Whispers

The house spoke to Lena first.

She heard it in the dusty living room—soft whispering behind her ear, threading directly into her thoughts.

Lena… you’re the one who opened the door. Stay with me.

She spun, expecting Jayden’s teasing grin.
No one was behind her.

But her name lingered, faint and sticky, inside her skull.

—

The Sealed Exit

When they tried to leave, the door wouldn’t open.

Theo cursed and rammed it with his shoulder.
The door didn’t budge. It felt like pushing against cold stone.

“Let’s just call for help,” Cass said, pulling out her phone.

Dead battery.
All of them had dead batteries.

The house hummed.

Living.

Listening.

Waiting.

—

The First Taken

Marla was the first to wander off—drawn by something only she could hear.

She drifted upstairs, following soft murmurs that curled around her legs like smoke. In a room lit by a grimy window, she found a mirror. The glass was cracked like a spiderweb, but she swore she saw someone standing behind her in it.

Tall.
Shadow-thin.
Grinning.

The voice whispered:

Tell me your name… and I’ll give you everything you desire.

Marla whispered it.
The mirror swallowed her reflection.

Her scream echoed through the house—wet, sharp, abruptly cut off.

When the others found the room, Marla was gone.
But her reflection remained… frozen inside the broken mirror, palms pressed against the inside of the glass as though begging to be let out.

—

The House Tightens Its Grip

The air grew heavier.
Their heads felt stuffed with cotton and static.
Every shadow moved wrong—too slow or too aware.

Lena heard breathing behind the walls.
Theo kept scratching his arms, insisting something was crawling under his skin.
Cass whispered prayers under her breath.
Jayden tried to stay brave, but his voice trembled every time he called Marla’s name.

The house murmured in delight.

—

The Blood Trail

They found the basement door open.
Only Lena noticed that it hadn’t been open when they arrived.

A dark trail—thick, sticky, smeared—led down the stairs.

Theo insisted they follow it.
Jayden agreed.
Cass begged them not to go.
Lena didn’t want to move at all, but the house tugged at her mind like claws dragging through fog.

When they reached the bottom, they found symbols carved into the concrete. Symbols that twitched and rearranged themselves like living veins.

Marla’s voice called from the far corner:

“Help me…”

But when they approached, her shape peeled backward—stretching, unraveling into a hollow shell of skin that crumpled like discarded paper.

Behind it stood the entity.

A towering figure of darkness made of stitched shadows and many teeth, its smile splitting too wide, too long, too hungry.

—

The Spell Breaks Too Late

“Run!” Jayden screamed.

They did.
But the basement door slammed shut, sealing behind them as the lights flickered, dimmed, and finally died.

In the dark, the entity whispered each of their names—slow, savoring them like a meal:

Jayden… Cass… Lena… Theo…

Each time it spoke a name, someone disappeared.

A gasp.
A wet drag.
A crunch.
Silence.

Until only Lena remained.

—

The Last Name

She pressed herself against the wall, trembling, tears soaking her shirt. The entity approached, its form shifting like smoke pulled by a silent wind.

“You came willingly,” it purred. “You opened the door. You let me in.”

“What do you want?” she sobbed.

It leaned close, breath like cold ash against her cheek.

“Your name.”

Lena clenched her teeth, refusing.
She tried to pray, scream, run—but the house held her like a vise.

“Tell me your name,” it crooned again, voice dripping into her ear.
“Or I’ll wear your friends’ voices until you break.”

Then the walls trembled—echoing with their cries, their whispers, their pleading.

The house fed on her panic.

Finally, shaking, Lena whispered her name.

The darkness surged, swallowing her whole.

—

The House Sleeps Again

By morning, the house on Magpie Road was quiet.

Still.
Empty.

Another group of teens would eventually wander in—curious, brave, stupid.

And the house would open its eyes again.

Hungry.
Waiting.

Feeding.

—