The Silent Scream of the Haunted Door

Sort:Urban Legends | Time:2025-05-20 01:03:18 | View Nums:1

In the heart of a desolate town, where the wind howled like a banshee through the abandoned streets, there stood an old house, its once-proud facade now crumbling with age. The locals whispered tales of its eerie history, but no one dared to step inside. That was, until the night a young woman named Eliza found herself standing before the haunted door.

Eliza had always been an inquisitive soul, drawn to the supernatural and the macabre. Her latest obsession was a book titled "The Haunted Door: A Journey to the Beyond," which she had stumbled upon in an antique shop. The book was said to contain the secrets to contacting the dead and unlocking the mysteries of the afterlife. Intrigued, Eliza had bought it, and ever since, her thoughts had been consumed by the stories within.

One rainy night, as the storm raged outside, Eliza found herself alone in her room, the pages of the book open to a particular passage. The door, depicted in the illustration, seemed to call to her. It was a grand oak door, ornate with carvings of vines and faces that seemed to shift and change as if alive. Eliza's heart raced as she approached the door, her curiosity overcoming her fear.

With trembling hands, she pushed the door open. The air inside was thick with the scent of damp earth and something else, something she couldn't quite place. The room beyond was dimly lit by flickering candlelight, casting eerie shadows on the walls. In the center of the room stood an old wooden chair, and at the foot of it was a table with a single, flickering candle.

Eliza stepped into the room, her footsteps echoing softly. She moved closer to the chair, her eyes wide with wonder and fear. Suddenly, the door behind her slammed shut with a deafening bang, and she spun around, her heart pounding. The room was silent, save for the sound of the candle flickering.

She walked over to the chair, her fingers tracing the carvings on the wooden armrests. Then, she noticed a small, ornate box sitting on the table. It was locked, but Eliza's fingers moved deftly, and she opened it to reveal a small, intricate key. The key had a face carved into it, and as Eliza looked at it, she felt a chill run down her spine.

With the key in hand, she turned to the door, feeling its weight as she pushed it open. This time, there was no sound, and she moved through the doorway with ease. The room beyond was larger, with high ceilings and windows that were boarded up, leaving the room in darkness. Eliza's flashlight flickered on, revealing a long, narrow corridor.

She moved down the corridor, the sound of her footsteps echoing off the stone walls. The air grew colder, and she felt as if she were being watched. Suddenly, she heard a faint whisper, a voice calling her name. It was Eliza, but the voice was different, deeper, more sinister.

"Eliza," the voice said again, and this time it was louder, more insistent. "You have to come back."

Eliza's heart raced as she turned to see the source of the voice. The end of the corridor was blocked by a large, ornate door, just like the one in the room she had just left. The carvings on this door were more intricate, more haunting. Eliza approached it, her fingers trembling as she reached out to touch the door.

As her fingers brushed against the carvings, the door swung open, revealing a dark room filled with shadows. In the center of the room was a large, ornate bed, and on the bed lay a woman, her eyes closed, her face serene.

"Eliza," the voice said once more, and this time it was clearer, more distinct. "You have to come to me."

Eliza hesitated, her heart pounding in her chest. She turned to leave, but the door behind her slammed shut, and she found herself trapped in the room. The woman on the bed opened her eyes, and Eliza saw that the woman's face was twisted in a grotesque smile.

"Eliza," the woman said, her voice a low, sinister growl. "You are mine now."

Eliza's scream echoed through the room as she struggled against the invisible chains that bound her. The woman on the bed reached out, her fingers brushing against Eliza's face. Eliza felt a chill run down her spine, and then everything went black.

When Eliza awoke, she found herself back in her room, the book lying open on the bed next to her. She sat up, her heart pounding in her chest. She had been dreaming, but the dream had been so real, so terrifying. She looked at the book, her eyes wide with fear.

The door to the room behind her stood open, and Eliza saw the reflection of the old house in the glass. She had been dreaming of the haunted door, of the journey to the beyond. But now, she realized that the door was real, and it was calling to her.

Eliza stood up, her heart pounding in her chest. She approached the door, her fingers trembling as she pushed it open. The room beyond was just as she had seen it in her dream, with the old wooden chair and the flickering candle on the table.

Eliza walked over to the chair, her eyes fixed on the ornate box on the table. She opened the box, her fingers trembling as she reached inside. The key was still there, and she picked it up, feeling its weight in her hand.

As she looked at the key, she saw the woman on the bed in her dream, her face twisted in a grotesque smile. Eliza felt a chill run down her spine, and she knew that she had to leave.

With the key in hand, Eliza turned to leave the room, but the door slammed shut behind her. She spun around, her eyes wide with fear, and saw the woman on the bed once more. The woman's eyes were wide, and she was smiling.