Whispers of the Abandoned: The White's Night of the Dead

The moon hung low in the sky, its silver glow casting long shadows on the overgrown grass that surrounded the old mansion. It was the White's Night, a time when the veil between worlds seemed to thin, and the dead were rumored to roam the earth. Four friends, Alex, Jamie, Sarah, and Tom, decided to test the legend's validity, their curiosity piqued by the tales of the haunted mansion.

The mansion had been abandoned for decades, a relic of a bygone era, its windows shattered, and the paint peeled off the wooden facade. A thick mist rolled in from the lake, and the air carried the faint scent of decay. As they approached, the old doors creaked open with a lifeless groan, inviting them in like a silent siren.

Inside, the mansion was eerie and silent, save for the occasional whisper that seemed to echo from the walls. The group's eyes adjusted to the darkness, revealing dimly lit rooms filled with dust and cobwebs. They moved cautiously, each step sending a shiver down their spines.

"Who knows what we're getting ourselves into?" Alex whispered, his voice barely above a whisper.

"Let's just find the room where they say the deaths happened and get out of here," Jamie replied, her voice trembling slightly.

As they explored deeper into the mansion, they found a room at the end of a long, dark hallway. The door was slightly ajar, and the air inside seemed thick with tension. They pushed it open and stepped inside, the scent of something stale and sour filling their nostrils.

The room was small, with a single bed in the center, its covers pulled back, revealing a faint outline where a body had once lain. The walls were adorned with photographs, some of which showed the mansion in its heyday, a place of elegance and luxury. But others depicted scenes of horror and death.

"Did you see that?" Sarah gasped, pointing to a photo of a man standing by a grave, his expression one of despair.

Tom nodded, his eyes wide with fear. "This place is cursed."

As they continued to examine the room, they found a journal on the bed. The pages were filled with entries, each one more disturbing than the last. The author, a man named Edward White, seemed to be chronicling the events that led to the mansion's downfall.

The journal detailed a series of tragic events that unfolded in the mansion. A young couple, engaged to be married, had come to the mansion for a weekend getaway. But as the night wore on, strange occurrences began to happen. They heard footsteps in the empty halls, felt cold hands brush against their skin, and saw ghostly figures floating in the windows.

The next morning, the couple was found dead, their bodies drained of blood. The police ruled it a murder-suicide, but Edward, who had been a close friend of the couple, claimed that something supernatural was at work. He had since gone mad, and the mansion had been abandoned ever since.

As they read the journal, the group felt the weight of the mansion's past. The whispers grew louder, and the temperature seemed to drop. Alex, Jamie, Sarah, and Tom exchanged glances, their faces pale and filled with fear.

"Let's go," Tom urged, his voice trembling.

But as they moved to leave, they were trapped. The door to the room slammed shut, and they were surrounded by darkness. The whispers grew louder, and the temperature dropped even further. They could feel the presence of something sinister, something watching them.

"Who's there?" Jamie called out, her voice trembling.

There was no answer, just the sound of the whispers and the feeling that they were being watched. The group tried to break through the door, but it was locked from the outside. They were trapped.

As they stood there, panic setting in, the whispers grew louder, and the room seemed to come alive. The walls began to glow with an eerie light, and the photographs on the wall seemed to move, their faces twisted in pain and fear.

Suddenly, a figure emerged from the shadows. It was Edward White, his eyes wide with madness, his skin pale and drawn. He smiled at the group, his lips pulled back in a hideous grin.

"You can't escape this place," he hissed. "The spirits of the dead will not let you."

The group tried to scream, but the whispers drowned out their cries. They were surrounded by the spirits of those who had perished in the mansion, their ghostly forms floating around them, their eyes filled with sorrow and resentment.

The room seemed to spin, and the group felt themselves being pulled into the darkness. As they vanished, the whispers faded, leaving behind only the eerie silence of the abandoned mansion.

The next morning, the group awoke in a small town hospital, covered in bruises and cuts, their minds in a daze. They had no memory of what had happened in the mansion, just a lingering sense of dread.

As they left the hospital, Alex turned to his friends and said, "I think we should never have gone there."

Jamie nodded, her eyes filled with fear. "It was a mistake, Alex. A big one."

Tom and Sarah nodded in agreement. They had all been haunted by the events of the White's Night, and they knew that the mansion's curse would never be forgotten.

And so, the legend of the haunted mansion grew, and the spirits of the dead continued to roam the halls, their whispers echoing through the night, warning anyone who dared to enter their domain.