As I stood in front of the dilapidated old mansion, I couldn't shake the feeling that I was being watched. The once grand building was now overgrown with weeds and ivy, giving it an eerie, abandoned appearance.
I hesitated before making my way up the creaky old steps, feeling a shiver run down my spine. The front door was slightly ajar, and I could see darkness beyond. Mustering up my courage, I pushed it open and stepped inside.
The musty smell of decay and neglect hit me immediately. Cobwebs stretched across the high ceilings, and layers of dust covered every surface. I could hear the sound of my own breathing echoing off the walls.
I followed a winding staircase up to the second floor, my footsteps echoing through the empty halls. Each room I passed was filled with old, broken furniture and the remnants of a once luxurious life.
But it wasn't just the state of disrepair that made this place feel haunted. There was a presence here, a feeling of malevolence that seemed to seep into my bones. I couldn't shake the sense that I wasn't alone.
I continued to explore the house, my heart racing with each creaky floorboard and each gust of wind that rattled the windows. And then, I heard it. A faint whisper, coming from a room at the end of the hall.
I slowly approached the doorway, my pulse pounding in my ears. As I peered inside, I saw a figure standing in the corner, shrouded in darkness. I couldn't make out its features, but I knew that it was not of this world.
I turned and fled, not stopping until I was outside, safe in the daylight. I never looked back, and I never returned to that haunted house.
