The Haunting of the Lavatory of Lost Souls

The old mansion stood at the end of a narrow, overgrown lane, its windows like hollow eyes peering out into the night. The couple, Sarah and Mark, had recently married and were eager to start their new life together. They had always been fascinated by the stories of the mansion, which was said to be haunted by the spirits of those who had met their end within its walls.

As they unpacked their belongings, the house seemed like a dream come true. The rooms were grand and the halls were filled with the scent of old wood and forgotten memories. But as they settled in, strange occurrences began to unfold. Objects would move on their own, and at night, faint whispers could be heard in the empty halls.

Sarah's curiosity was piqued, and she decided to explore the mansion further. One evening, as the sun began to set, she found herself drawn to the lavatory at the end of the hall. It was a grand, ornate room, with intricate carvings and a commode that seemed out of place in the otherwise modern home. The whispers grew louder as she approached, and she felt a shiver run down her spine.

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

There was no answer, but the whispers seemed to echo her words. She stepped into the lavatory and turned on the light. The room was filled with dust and cobwebs, and the air felt thick with a sense of dread. She knelt down to examine the commode, and that's when she saw it.

Engraved into the wood were the names of those who had died within the mansion, each accompanied by a date and a brief description of their death. Sarah's eyes widened in horror as she recognized one of the names: her own.

"Sarah, October 15th," the engraving read. "Drowned in the bathtub."

She felt a cold hand grip her shoulder, and she turned to see Mark standing in the doorway. His face was pale, and his eyes were wide with fear.

"What's happening?" Mark asked, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah pointed to the engraving. "I... I think they're trying to tell us something."

Mark's eyes darted around the room, and he noticed the other names. "This can't be real. We need to leave."

But as they turned to leave, the whispers grew louder, and the room seemed to close in around them. The commode began to rock back and forth, and Sarah felt a sudden chill. She turned back to the engraving, and that's when she saw the date had changed.

"Mark, October 15th," it read. "Strangled by the commode chain."

Mark's eyes widened in shock, and he rushed to the commode. He reached out to touch it, and at that moment, the room seemed to spin. The walls blurred, and they were no longer in the lavatory.

Sarah opened her eyes to find herself back in the mansion, but the lavatory was gone. She looked around and saw Mark standing next to her, his face as pale as a ghost.

"We need to find the lavatory," Mark said, his voice barely audible. "We have to stop whatever's happening."

They ran through the mansion, their footsteps echoing in the empty halls. They stumbled upon a hidden door behind a large bookshelf, and as they pushed it open, they were greeted by the same eerie whispers and the rocking commode.

Sarah and Mark stepped into the room, and the whispers seemed to intensify. The commode began to rock faster, and Sarah could feel the room trembling around them. She looked at Mark, and he nodded. They approached the commode, their hands trembling with fear.

"Sarah, we have to do this together," Mark said, his voice steady.

They reached out to the commode, and as they touched it, the room seemed to come alive. The whispers grew louder, and the air grew colder. But as they held onto the commode, they felt a surge of power.

"We can do this," Sarah whispered.

The room began to shake, and the commode started to move with a life of its own. It rolled towards them, and Sarah and Mark held on for dear life. The room seemed to spin around them, and they were pulled into the darkness.

When they opened their eyes, they were back in the living room of the mansion. The whispers had stopped, and the room was quiet. They looked at each other, and both of them felt a sense of relief.

"We did it," Mark said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Sarah nodded, her eyes filled with tears. "We survived."

They sat down on the couch, their hearts still racing. They knew that the mansion had a dark past, and they were just the latest in a long line of victims. But they had faced the darkness and come out stronger.

As they sat there, the mansion seemed to settle down. The whispers had stopped, and the air was no longer thick with fear. They had faced the haunted lavatory, and they had won.

But they knew that the mansion would always be haunted. And as they looked around, they saw that the engraving on the commode had changed again.

"Sarah, October 15th," it read. "Drowned in the bathtub."

Sarah and Mark looked at each other, and they knew that the mansion's curse was far from over. They had faced the darkness, but they had not defeated it. The haunted lavatory of lost souls was still waiting, and they would have to face it again if they wanted to truly be free.