Arif_Ali1

Chapter Title:

Chapter 1: The Whispering Walls


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Chapter Text (Paste This):

The storm had not stopped for three nights.

In the silence between the thunder, she could hear it again — those faint whispers inside the walls.

Helena gripped the edge of her hospital desk, eyes locked on the cracked plaster just above the patient bed. Room 313. No one lasted long in it.

St. Delora’s Mental Asylum had been standing since 1892, tucked away beyond the woods outside Black Hollow town. People said it was cursed. Helena didn’t believe in curses. Not until she met Patient 47.

He was quiet, pale, and watched the walls like something might crawl out any moment. And every night, at exactly 3:13 a.m., he whispered one thing:
“They’re waiting in the house.”

When she asked him which house, he simply smiled and said,
“The house that listens.”

Then he scratched a drawing onto the padded wall. A house. Long windows like eyes. And dozens of ears, carved into the bricks.

The next morning, he vanished. The staff blamed it on a clerical error. No one else remembered admitting him. Not even the security cameras showed anything.

But Helena had the drawing.

And a voice had started whispering to her, too.

In her sleep.

In her walls.

She knew she had to go to the house.

The same house from the drawing.

The one no one dared talk about.

The one that appears in the dreams of madmen.

The House of Whispers.

The House of Whisperss

Though the mirror was shattered, the sense of being watched never left. At night, whispers curled around her ears—soft, almost gentle… but persistent.

Jawad stayed close. He'd taken leave from college, determined to protect her. But even he couldn't deny that something felt… unfinished.

One evening, while organizing the fragments of the mirror in a sealed box, Rabaab noticed something strange.

One shard still shimmered faintly. It pulsed—not red, not blue—but black, like ink swirling in water.

Rabaab stumbled back, heart hammering. The box fell, spilling the shards across the floor.

He rushed in, eyes scanning the mess. "What happened?"

Jawad picked it up carefully, turning it in his hand. It looked ordinary now—just glass. But he saw the fear in Rabaab's eyes. And he trusted her.

"We need to find out where this mirror came from," he said.

Rabaab nodded slowly. "It didn't start with me. It's older. Much older."

In that moment, a knock echoed from the front door.

And outside, night had just begun to fall.

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A CRACK IN THE SILENCE…