The House (Part 1)
The next two days passed in a blur of lectures, assignments, and deadlines. It was the kind of week where time slipped through their fingers, leaving little room for anything beyond academics. Even the ever-present unease surrounding Jhoanna’s case seemed to dull beneath the weight of exams and essays. The group barely spoke about it, their usual conversations limited to hurried exchanges between classes and exhausted nods of agreement when discussing study sessions. Even Aiah, who had spent nights tangled in theories and spiraling questions about Jhoanna, found herself too drained to pursue them further. For now, school had taken over them.
But when Friday night rolled around, reality came crashing back.
Aiah’s dorm was filled with the familiar sounds of her friends bickering, the rustling of snack bags, and the occasional thud of a book or phone hitting the floor. The small space felt even smaller with all of them crammed inside, but no one seemed to mind.
Colet sat cross-legged on the bed, her laptop balanced on her knees as she pulled up the map of the abandoned house. Maloi and Gwen were sitting on the floor, backs against the bed, flipping through their notes as if preparing for an exam rather than a potentially dangerous outing. Mikha sprawled out on Aiah’s desk chair, rolling back and forth absentmindedly while Stacey and Sheena hovered over Colet’s shoulder, peering at the screen. Aiah sat cross-legged on the floor, a notebook open in front of her.
“So, tomorrow’s the day,” Colet said, cracking her knuckles. “We’ll finally check out the abandoned house.”
“Can we take a moment to appreciate how insane that sounds?” Stacey deadpanned, adjusting her glasses. “We’re willingly walking into a probably haunted, definitely decrepit building because some creepy girl left us a location?”
“It’s called curiosity, Stacey,” Mikha smirked, tossing a pillow at her. “You should try it sometime.”
“Curiosity kills,” Stacey muttered, catching the pillow before it smacked her in the face.
“I still think this is a prank,” Maloi chimed in from her spot near the bed. “I mean, come on. An old abandoned house, cryptic letters, and a creepier girl? We sound like the cast of a low-budget horror film.”
“A horror film where we all die,” Stacey added dryly, now scrolling on her phone.
Gwen groaned, throwing her head back against the couch. “Can you all stop being so dramatic? We’ve already decided we’re going.”
“Yeah,” Aiah finally spoke, tapping her pen against the notebook. “It’s not like we’re walking in blindly. We just need to plan carefully.”
She flipped to a fresh page. “First, time. We need to go during the day. If we get there by mid-morning, we’ll have enough daylight to look around before heading back.”
“Also, less people around to ask why a group of students are poking around an abandoned house.” Gwen added.
“Around seven?” Colet proposed. “That gives us time to sleep but still get there before noon.”
Aiah take note of it. “Second, transportation. The location isn’t exactly within walking distance, so how are we getting there?”
“I can borrow my cousin’s van,” Maloi offered. “It’s beat-up, but it runs.”
“Perfect.” Aiah jotted it down. “But who’s driving?”
“I am,” Mikha said immediately, leaning back against Aiah’s bed.
“Excuse me? I should be the one driving. Besides it’s my cousin’s van were taking” Maloi scoffed.
The entire group turned to her with varying expressions of horror and disbelief.
“No way,” Stacey deadpanned.
“Absolutely not,” Sheena added.
“Maloi, I want to arrive at the house, not die while halfway there,” Gwen said, crossing her arms.
Maloi threw her hands up. “What?! I’m a great driver!”
“You almost crashed us into a tree last time,” Colet pointed out.
“That was one time!”
“And you almost hit a parked car,” Sheena reminded her.
Maloi groaned. “Okay, but I know the area better than anyone else! I’ve been there before.”
“And that’s why you’ll be in the passenger seat,” Aiah said, cutting off the brewing argument before it escalated. “You can help navigate while Mikha drives.”
Maloi huffed, arms crossed, but didn’t argue further.
“Great, that’s settled,” Gwen said, pulling a small pouch from her backpack. “I’m bringing my lockpicks, just in case.”
Mikha raised a brow. “That’s illegal.”
“So is trespassing, but here we are,” Gwen said dryly.
“She has a point,” Stacey muttered.
“I’m bringing flashlights,” Sheena added. “And an extra set of batteries, because if horror movies have taught me anything, it’s that flashlights will die at the worst possible moment.”
“I will handle the other supplies,” Colet added. “First aid kit, and maybe some snacks so we don’t starve in the middle of nowhere.”
Stacey sighed, before suggesting. “We should bring masks too. Abandoned houses are probably full of dust and who knows what else.”
“Good call,” Aiah said, writing it down. “Anything else?”
The room fell into silence for a beat before Aiah cleared her throat.
She tapped her pen on her notebook, finalizing their checklist. “Alright. We meet at Maloi’s car at six-thirty and leave at exactly seven. It’s a two-hour drive, so we should get there before lunch. We check the house, gather anything useful, and then leave before dark.”
Silence fell over the group for a moment. The weight of what they were about to do settled in.
“Do we even know what we’re looking for?” Mikha asked after a beat.
Aiah hesitated. That was the big question, wasn’t it? Jhoanna’s case had been nothing but dead ends and cryptic hints. Would they even find something?
“We don’t,” she admitted. “But if Celeste left us this location, it must mean something. Even if we just find another clue, it’s better than nothing.”
The room remained quiet for a few more seconds before Sheena clapped her hands together. “Alright, enough serious talk. Let’s eat before we all start spiraling into existential crisis.”
“I second that,” Maloi said, already moving to grab the bags of snacks they had brought.
Despite the lingering uncertainty, the mood lightened as the group shifted into casual banter, letting themselves have this one night of normalcy before whatever awaited them tomorrow.
--------------
The morning sun had barely climbed the sky when the group gathered in front of Maloi’s cousin’s van, their supposed getaway vehicle for the day. Bags and supplies were scattered on the ground as they did last-minute checks before departure. What should have been a simple departure had, unsurprisingly, devolved into another absolute chaos.
“Okay, everyone, check your stuff,” Aiah said, rubbing her temples as she watched the unfolding chaos.
“Why the hell are you bringing a baseball bat?” Gwen snapped, glaring at Maloi, who had the weapon slung over her shoulder like she was about to step into a gang fight.
“In case we have to fight ghosts,” Maloi answered matter-of-factly.
“Ghosts don’t care about baseball bats!” Gwen threw her arms up.
“Fine. Then you can get possessed first.”
“What’s in the duffel bag?” Mikha asked, eyeing the oversized bag Sheena was struggling to shove into the back of the van.
“Supplies,” Sheena answered vaguely.
Mikha narrowed her eyes. “Be specific.”
Sheena huffed. “Fine. Some snacks, a flashlight, a first-aid kit, a taser—”
“Why do you have a taser?” Aiah cut in, looking exasperated.
“For self-defense!”
“We’re going to an abandoned house, there’s no one in there,” Colet muttered.
“You never know.”
“Okay, but what’s in that?” Mikha gestured toward a second bag Sheena had brought.
Sheena smirked. “Backup supplies.”
“Jesus Christ.”
Meanwhile, Stacey was stuffing something into her own backpack.
“What are you bringing?” Gwen asked, suspicious.
“Holy water,” Stacey said, not looking up.
Colet snorted. “What, are you expecting demons?”
“You saw the creepy coordinates! If something jumps at us, I am not taking chances.”
“She has a point,” Sheena muttered.
Maloi smirked. “That’s why I brought salt.” She pulled out a suspiciously large bag of coarse sea salt.
“What is this, a supernatural exorcism?” Mikha groaned.
“I prefer to call it precaution.”
Aiah sighed, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Okay, can we all agree to bring only what is actually useful?”
“Define ‘useful,’” Maloi challenged.
“If we can’t rationally explain why we need it, it stays,” Colet said firmly.
Maloi groaned but reluctantly tossed the bag of salt into the back of the van. Sheena hesitated before keeping her ‘backup’ bag on the ground. Stacey, however, clutched her holy water protectively.
“I’m keeping this,” she said stubbornly.
“Fine,” Aiah muttered. “Now can we please get in the car before we waste more time?”
Maloi made a beeline for the driver’s seat, yanking the door open and sliding in. “Alright, losers! Buckle up—”
“NO!” The entire group shouted in unison.
“Maloi, get out of the driver’s seat!” Gwen barked.
Maloi clutched the steering wheel dramatically. “But I know the place! It only makes sense—”
“We literally talked about this last night!” Aiah reminded her, exasperated. “Mikha is driving. You get passenger seat. That was the deal.”
“She’s gonna drive slow,” Maloi whined, still gripping the wheel as if that would somehow override their decision.
“I literally drive at normal speed,” Mikha groaned, prying Maloi’s fingers off the wheel. “Get in the passenger seat or I’m leaving you behind.”
“You wouldn’t.”
Mikha turned on the ignition. “Try me.”
Maloi let out a long-suffering sigh before finally shuffling to the passenger seat, but not before dramatically tossing her baseball bat into the back seat like a sulking child.
Finally, after a chaotic mess of reorganizing their luggage and arguing over seating arrangements, they piled into the car. As the engine roared to life, Aiah exhaled deeply, already bracing herself for whatever insanity awaited them at the abandoned house.
The car had barely pulled out of the parking lot when the chaos started.
Maloi, now demoted to the passenger seat with great reluctance, was already messing with the GPS. "Okay, so you take a left here, then a right—no, wait, that’s a dead-end—"
Mikha, gripping the steering wheel tightly, shot her a glare. "Maloi. I have Google Maps. I don’t need your directions."
"Google Maps doesn’t have vibes, Mikha!" Maloi shot back. "I know this area! I feel the roads."
"Feel my fist if you don’t stop messing with my navigation!" Mikha threatened, swatting at Maloi’s hand as she reached for the dashboard controls.
Meanwhile, in the backseat, Sheena was loudly munching on a bag of chips, the crinkling noise already grating on Stacey’s nerves. "Dude, chew with your mouth closed," Stacey groaned, nudging her with an elbow.
"Nah, I like to make my presence known," Sheena smirked, crunching even louder just to be annoying.
Suddenly, Maloi, who had been pouting in the passenger seat, perked up. "Hey, can we stop for coffee? I need my morning caffeine."
"We just started driving," Mikha said, exasperated. "It’s been—what?—fifteen minutes?"
"Exactly! We still have, like, two hours!" Maloi whined. "Come on, Mikha, be a team player."
"No."
"Please?"
"No."
"Mikha—"
"Maloi—"
"I will pay for yours."
Mikha considered this. "...Fine. But only drive-thru."
"YES!" Maloi fist-pumped in victory, while Sheena and Stacey cheered from the backseat.
A few minutes later, after an unnecessarily complicated coffee order that made Mikha question her life choices, they were back on the road. Music played softly through the speakers, a mix of different playlists mashed together, creating the strangest ambiance possible—one second, it was a dramatic rock ballad, the next, a bubblegum pop song, followed by something that sounded vaguely like a Gregorian chant (courtesy of Colet’s strange taste in music). But of cource the peace was short-lived.
Within twenty minutes, the chaos began again.
“I need to pee,” Sheena groaned, slumping against the seat.
“We literally just left a coffee shop,” Gwen deadpanned. “You should’ve gone before we started driving again.”
“I did! But that was, like, twenty minutes ago.”
“You’re literally worse than a child,” Colet muttered.
Maloi, still clearly bitter about the driving situation, turned to Mikha with a wicked grin. “Take the bumpiest road possible. Maybe we’ll shake the problem out of her.”
Sheena gasped. “You witch!”
“Thank you,” Maloi said, grinning.
Meanwhile, in the very back, Aiah tried her best to ignore the noise, focusing instead on the road outside. The city was slowly giving way to more rural areas, trees lining the roads, casting long shadows as the morning sun stretched across the horizon. The sight reminded her that they weren’t just going on a road trip—this wasn’t some casual adventure. They were heading straight into something unknown, something that felt off even before they’d arrived.
As if sensing her unease, Colet nudged her lightly. “You, okay?”
Aiah blinked, shaking off the creeping anxiety. “Yeah. Just thinking.”
Colet gave her a look, clearly unconvinced, but didn’t push. Instead, she changed the subject. “Did you read anything useful last night?”
Aiah hesitated before nodding. “Kind of. Just… more questions than answers.”
Colet hummed in understanding. “Figures.”
Up front, Mikha turned up the music in an attempt to drown out Maloi and Sheena’s increasingly dramatic argument over whether ghosts could drive cars (“If they can possess people, why not?” Maloi insisted), while Stacey and Gwen had resorted to throwing snacks at them to make them stop.
Somewhere along the way, Maloi started a game of “Spot the Creepiest Thing Outside,” which led to a series of exaggerated and probably made-up horror stories about random barns, gas stations, and abandoned houses they passed. Sheena, always one to escalate things, had turned her phone flashlight under her chin and started telling ghost stories—until Mikha threatened to pull over and leave her on the side of the road.
By the time they neared their destination, the jokes and playful chaos had started to die down, replaced by a more noticeable tension. The trees grew denser, the roads narrower. The atmosphere felt heavier, like the air itself knew where they were going and didn’t approve.
Maloi exhaled, fidgeting in her seat. "You guys feel that?"
Sheena nudged her. "Don’t start."
"No, seriously." Maloi frowned. "It’s like the air’s getting… heavy."
Nobody responded immediately, but Aiah knew they all felt it. A strange weight settling over them, an eerie silence creeping into the spaces where laughter once was.
Aiah’s fingers curled around the sleeves of her hoodie as she exhaled slowly.
They were almost there.
Then—
Mikha eased her foot onto the brake, pulling the car to a stop, the tires crunching against the gravel road as the engine hummed before finally settling into silence. For a moment, no one moved. The weight of their destination sank in, pressing against them like the heavy, stagnant air surrounding the house.
"We're here," Mikha announced, voice quieter than usual.
No one responded immediately. Instead, they all sat frozen in place, staring out the windshield at the towering, decayed structure beyond the rusted gate. The house loomed ahead, its once-white walls now stained with streaks of grime, the windows dark like hollow, watching eyes. The iron gate stood tall, its hinges warped with time, and beyond it, the overgrown yard was choked with weeds, as if nature itself had tried to reclaim the place.
The street was unsettlingly quiet. Not just quiet—wrong. There were houses nearby, but not a single sign of life. No cars parked along the curb, no dogs barking, no rustling of leaves in the breeze. It was as if the entire block was holding its breath.
Aiah swallowed, forcing down the weight in her throat.
"This place is giving me the worst vibes imaginable," Stacey muttered, crossing her arms tightly over her chest.
"No kidding," Gwen added, her eyes never leaving the house. "It looks… wrong."
Maloi let out a low whistle, her usual bravado somewhat subdued. "Y’know, I always thought it felt weird whenever I passed by, but up close? Yeah. This place is messed up."
Aiah sighed and finally unbuckled her seatbelt. "Alright," she said, forcing herself to move. "Let’s go."
One by one, they hesitantly got out of the car, the doors shutting behind them with unsettling finality. The group instinctively lined up in front of the gate, no one stepping forward just yet.
"So," Maloi began, rocking on her heels. "This is a bad idea."
"Terrible idea," Sheena agreed, arms crossed. "Look at that thing. That's haunted with a capital H."
"No," Stacey corrected. "That’s cursed. Haunted houses have at least some charm. That thing? That's where people disappear and are never found."
"Oh god, you’re right," Maloi muttered. "This is some ‘local legend, don’t go past the gate or you’ll never be seen again’ type of thing. What if there’s a demon in there?"
"Nope," Sheena cut in. "Nope, I’m not doing demons. I refuse to be possessed. I like my soul inside my body, thank you."
"Oh, and you think ghosts are better?" Stacey shot back. "At least with demons, there's a small chance of exorcism. Ghosts? They linger. They follow you home."
Mikha sighed. "We literally drove two hours for this. We are going inside."
"You say that now, but when we hear something whisper our names from the shadows, you’ll be running to the car first," Maloi muttered.
"Guys," Aiah interrupted, pinching the bridge of her nose. "We agreed on this. No one is backing out now."
Maloi groaned. "I am backing out in my heart, though. My soul has already fled. My body is just lagging behind."
Sheena nudged her. "Too bad, you're stuck with us."
A tense silence followed, the house looming over them like a predator waiting for its prey to make the first move.
"...Okay, but just so we’re clear," Stacey said. "If any of us die, I told you so."
Then the argument started escalating. Maloi was adamant about turning back, Sheena was listing out increasingly absurd urban legends, and Stacey was dramatically theorizing about government experiments gone wrong. Aiah was just about to stop them when—
“What are you all doing?”
A deep, gravelly voice came from behind them.
Every single one of them screamed, jumping and stumbling back in a tangled mess of arms and legs. Aiah nearly tripped over Gwen, Stacey let out a strangled noise that sounded half a yelp, Sheena was gripping Colet’s sleeve, and Maloi actually flailed, grabbing onto Mikha for dear life. They all turned, wide-eyed and breathless.
Maloi was the first to recover, mouth already open to complain. “Sir, what the actual—”
She stopped mid-sentence.
They all did.
Standing before them was an old man, his form slightly hunched as he leaned against a weathered cane. His skin was paper-thin, stretched tight over sharp cheekbones, with deep lines carved into his face. His eyes—small, sunken, and disturbingly sharp—studying them with an intensity that sent a shiver up their spines. Wisps of white hair clung to his scalp, and his lips, cracked and pale, were slightly parted as if he were tasting the air. His clothes were old, slightly tattered, but not unkempt—a long-sleeved button-up, faded slacks, and shoes worn down at the soles. He was still. Too still. As if he had been standing there forever, watching.
No one said anything.
They simply stood there, stiff and pressed together, like a flock of frightened birds, as the man swept his gaze over them, one by one. His stare felt invasive, as if he were peeling away layers, searching for something beneath their skin. Aiah swallowed, forcing herself to breathe, but the air suddenly felt thick, unmoving.
After what felt like an eternity, she found her voice. “Uh, we were just… looking at the house.”
The old man’s gaze lingered on her for a moment longer before shifting toward the house.
His expression did not change.
But something in his posture did.
It was subtle—the way his fingers tightened slightly over his cane, the faint shift in his breath. He stared at the building, and for a brief moment, it almost looked like… recognition.
“No one ever left there.”
His voice was quiet. But the weight of his words pressed into them, colder than the air around them.
Aiah frowned. That didn’t—
No one ever left there.
The group followed his gaze, turning toward the house again, as if looking at it for the first time. The more they stared, the more it unsettled them—like the structure was holding its breath, waiting.
It was Stacey who moved first, rubbing her arms. “Okay, that was creepy as hell, but at least he—”
“Sheena?”
Mikha’s voice made them all turn.
Sheena was standing completely still, eyes wide, body tense. Her hands were trembling slightly as she pointed in front of her.
They followed her gaze.
The old man was gone.
There was no sound. No footsteps. No sign of movement.
One moment he had been there.
And now he wasn’t.
Sheena let out a yelp and jumped back, nearly knocking into Maloi, who swore under her breath.
“H-he was just here,” Stacey stammered, whipping her head around. “Where the hell—”
A tense silence followed, their breaths uneven, hearts pounding in their chests.
Then, Maloi took a step back. “Okay. Nope. Nope. NOPE. This is already a horror movie setup, and I am not dying first.”
“Maybe he was a ghost,” Sheena whispered, her voice tight with fear.
Stacey smacked her arm. “Why would you say that?!”
“Because I’m terrified, Stacey!”
“We all are!” Mikha snapped, hands on her head. “Okay, okay, okay, let’s all just—calm down.”
“I am calm,” Sheena muttered. “Just questioning my life choices.”
Aiah took a shaky breath, forcing herself to focus. “Look, we don’t know what just happened, but we’re already here. We came all this way for answers. We need to—”
“—Not go inside,” Maloi cut in.
Aiah shot her a look. “We need to figure out what’s going on.”
“No, Aiah, we don’t! We can go home and pretend we didn’t almost get haunted just now,” Maloi argued, waving a frantic hand at the empty space where the old man had stood.
“Seconded,” Sheena said, nodding rapidly.
“Thirded,” Stacey chimed in.
“We’re already here,” Gwen muttered, though the hesitation was clear in her voice. “It would be a waste to leave now.”
“Survival is never a waste, Gwen!” Maloi threw her arms up. “Did no one else see what just happened?!”
Sheena nodded aggressively. “Yeah! I vote we go home, find a nice cafe, and not walk into a horror movie!”
“Too late, we’re already in one,” Mikha muttered.
Another long pause. Aiah could feel her pulse drumming in her ears.
And then, reluctantly, Gwen sighed. “So… are we doing this?”
A heavy silence settled over them. No one wanted to be the first to answer.
Then, one by one, they turned back to face the house.
“Nope. No way. Not happening.”
“We are not going in there.”
“This is where we turn around and pretend we never came.”
Sheena, Stacey, and Maloi were still going at it, standing a few steps behind the rest of the group with their arms crossed, voices overlapping in an escalating chorus of protest.
Aiah let out a sharp exhale, rubbing her temple. Then, in a firm voice, she cut through their bickering. “We are already here.” Her words left no room for argument, making all three freeze in place. “We spent two hours driving, and I am not turning back just because an old guy decided to be cryptic."
Sheena opened her mouth to argue again but hesitated, glancing at the others. Stacey looked at the house, arms wrapped tightly around herself, before grumbling, “This is how people die in horror movies.”
Maloi let out a dramatic sigh. “If a demon possesses me, I’m taking you all down with me.”
Aiah rolled her eyes. “Nothing is going to happen.” Even as she said it, she wasn’t entirely convinced herself. But someone had to take control before they stood outside all day arguing. “Let’s just take a look.”
The three groaned but didn’t argue further, though they still muttered complaints under their breath.
Aiah sighed, shaking her head before turning toward the house again. They had stopped a few feet from the gate, an iron structure that stretched taller than any of them, its design old-fashioned and slightly rusted. The gate was bounded by stone pillars, cracked and chipped from time and neglect. Vines had begun to wrap around the bars, curling like skeletal fingers clutching onto the metal
The house itself loomed just beyond, a skeletal silhouette against the gray sky. The once-white walls were stained with patches of dark grime and peeling paint. The windows, tall and narrow, were enveloped with dust and dirt, their glass reflecting nothing but the dreary daylight. The front porch sagged slightly, wooden planks warped from exposure, and the roof above it was missing a few shingles, leaving jagged gaps like broken teeth.
Maloi muttered under her breath, “This place screams ‘bad idea.’”
No one disagreed.
Aiah stopped in front of the gate and the others clustered behind her, peering past the rusted bars, their shoes crunching against dried leaves and gravel, an uneasy silence settled among them. The air was still. Even the usual background noise of a neighborhood—distant car horns, the chatter of people, the occasional bark of a dog—was absent. It was as if this street had been completely abandoned by the world.
Then, in a quiet but firm voice, Gwen murmured, "The gate isn't locked."
Every head snapped toward her.
"What?" Maloi asked, voice barely above a whisper.
Gwen gestured at the gate with her lips. The chain that should’ve held it shut was missing, leaving only the rusted loops where a lock should have been. One of the gates stood slightly ajar, just enough to suggest it hadn’t been closed properly in a long time.
A shiver ran through the group.
No one spoke for a moment.
They had all expected a locked gate, a barrier between them and whatever lay beyond. They had prepared for the possibility of forcing their way inside, of debating whether to break in or not.
But the house was waiting for them.
Open.
----------------
Aiah took a deep breath and, without another word, reached for the gate. The metal was cool against her palm, rusted at the edges, and let out a long, grating creak as she pushed it open. The sound sent a shiver down her spine, but it wasn’t just hers—behind her, a chorus of gasps filled the air.
Instantly, Sheena, Stacey, and Maloi lunged toward Mikha, Colet, and Gwen, clinging to them as if they were shields against whatever lay ahead.
“Oh my god, this is a mistake,” Stacey muttered into Colet’s shoulder.
“Biggest mistake of our lives,” Sheena agreed, gripping Mikha’s arm like a vice.
“I told you we should’ve turned around when we had the chance,” Maloi hissed, half hiding behind Gwen, who merely sighed in exasperation.
Aiah rolled her eyes but didn’t stop. Leading the way, she stepped cautiously into the front yard. The grass was overgrown, reaching past her ankles in some places, uneven patches creating shadows that seemed to glide whenever they looked too long. The ground was uneven, littered with dead leaves and twigs. Weeds curled around the cracked stone pathway that led to the front door, nearly swallowing it whole.
The air was unnervingly still. Not a single bird, not even the rustle of wind in the trees.
Aiah kept walking, her eyes locked on the front door ahead. It loomed over them, dark wood warped with age, its brass handle dull and rusted. The paint was peeling, revealing deep cracks in the wood like veins crawling along the surface. Something about it felt… wrong. Not just old—wrong.
She paused at the small set of stairs leading up to the door, then took slow, deliberate steps, the wooden steps leading up to the front porch groaned under her weight as she climbed. She reached the threshold, standing before the heavy wooden door, her fingers curling slightly before hesitating.
It wasn’t until the silence became too loud that she realized something was off. There’s no footsteps behind her.
Aiah frowning, turned around, already half-expecting it.
Everyone was still standing at the base of the stairs, unmoving. Even Colet, Mikha, and Gwen—who were usually the first to back Aiah up—hadn’t budged. They were all clustered together, eyes flicking between her and the door as if debating whether this was really worth it.
“Seriously?” Aiah said, exasperation bleeding into her tone.
Mikha rubbed the back of her neck. “I mean… do we have to go inside?”
“Yes.”
The trio still clinging to their designated ‘protectors’ muttered incoherent protests under their breath, while Mikha rubbed her face as if trying to psych herself up.
“Well, uh,” Mikha cleared her throat, “You see, Aiah, there’s a difference between, uh, talking about entering the creepy abandoned house and actually entering the creepy abandoned house.”
“You are all unbelievable.” Aiah crossed her arms. “I thought we agreed last night.”
“Yes, but that was last night when the haunted house was an idea and not an actual house standing in front of us like a horror movie waiting to happen,” Stacey grumbled.
“You guys are acting like something’s going to jump out and eat us,” Aiah said, exasperated.
“I mean, can you guarantee it won’t?” Sheena shot back.
Aiah let out a sharp breath, schooling her expression before her frustration could bubble over. “Listen. We’re already here. You all agreed to this. I’m not about to do this alone, so either move your feet, or we’re standing here all day.”
A long silence followed.
She pinched the bridge of her nose. “Get up here. Now.”
No one moved.
She crossed her arms. “I will drag you all up here one by one.”
Still, no one moved.
Then, reluctantly, Colet sighed and stepped forward. “Come on. If we don’t follow her, she’ll never shut up about it.”
Gwen let out a deep breath before stepping forward too, though she avoided looking at the door. Mikha followed after, muttering something about dying for nothing.
That left Sheena, Stacey, and Maloi at the bottom of the stairs, still muttering their protests.
Aiah raised a brow. “You coming or not?”
They exchanged glances, visibly debating. Then, as if resigned to their fate, they hesitantly crept forward, muttering curses under their breaths as they finally climbed the stairs.
Aiah turned back to the door.
Now, there was only one thing left to do.
She exhaled softly, steadying herself before reaching for the doorknob. The brass was cold against her fingers, and she gave it a firm twist—only to find that it didn’t budge.
Locked.
She twisted it again, just to be sure, but the door remained unmoving.
Behind her, a chorus of relieved sighs filled the air.
“Well,” Stacey muttered, stepping back. “Looks like that’s our sign to leave.”
“Yup, that’s fate telling us we shouldn’t be here,” Maloi added quickly, already half-turning away.
“Guess we tried, let’s go,” Sheena concluded, nodding to herself.
Aiah pinched the bridge of her nose before slowly turning to Gwen. “You brought your tools, right?”
Gwen hesitated. “Uh… yeah?”
Aiah gestured toward the lock. “Think you can get this open?”
The trio immediately gasped in protest.
“Excuse me?” Stacey blurted. “Did you not just hear fate tell us to go home?”
“This is literally the universe giving us an out!” Maloi added, throwing her hands in the air.
Sheena clutched her chest dramatically. “I’m telling you, the moment that lock clicks open, something’s gonna go wrong.”
Colet scoffed, arms crossed. “Or, you know, we actually get inside and find out what the hell Celeste wanted us to see?”
“I vote for leaving,” Maloi interjected. “Anyone else?”
Aiah gave her a deadpan look. “We’re not voting.”
Maloi scowled. “Why not?”
“Because we already decided last night that we’re doing this.” Aiah turned back to Gwen. “Come on, before they run off.”
Gwen glanced at the door, then at the others, then back at Aiah. With a small sigh, she pulled her bag forward and unzipped the side pocket. The familiar clinking of metal tools sent another round of grumbling through the trio, but Gwen ignored them as she knelt in front of the door.
Aiah stood watch as Gwen set to work, inserting her lockpick and tension wrench into the keyhole with practiced precision. The others hovered behind, shifting nervously as if expecting something to jump out at them any second.
“I hate this. I hate this so much,” Sheena muttered under her breath.
“Five minutes, tops,” Gwen murmured, already focused.
“Five minutes is all a demon needs to possess us,” Maloi whispered, eyes darting around.
“Not helping,” Gwen grumbled.
Colet rolled her eyes. “Can you guys not? Gwen needs to concentrate.”
“I also need to concentrate on surviving,” Maloi shot back.
The soft clicks of metal against metal filled the air as Gwen maneuvered her tools. The tension was palpable, the occasional rustling of leaves or distant creaks from the house making the trio flinch each time.
Halfway through, Sheena elbowed Stacey. “What if when she opens it, the door just… swings open on its own?”
Stacey paled. “Sheena, shut up.”
Maloi shuddered. “Or what if—”
“I swear to god,” Colet snapped. “One more stupid horror scenario and I’ll personally lock you guys inside.”
Maloi immediately shut her mouth.
Minutes passed, each second feeling longer than the last. Maloi kept glancing back at the road as if expecting something—or someone—to appear. Stacey’s arms were tightly wrapped around herself, her foot tapping anxiously against the wooden steps. Sheena was muttering something under her breath, probably an impromptu prayer.
A tense silence stretched between them, broken only by Gwen’s steady work. Then—
Click.
The lock released with a small snap.
Gwen pulled her tools away and looked up at Aiah. “It’s open.”
Aiah nodded, gripping the doorknob once more. She hesitated, taking a deep breath before glancing back at the group.
The trio looked horrified.
Mikha, Colet, and Gwen were more resigned than anything else.
Aiah exhaled. “Alright. Let’s do this.”
And with that, she pushed the door open.
A wave of stale, musty air greeted them, thick with the scent of dust, decayed wood, and something else—a faint, almost metallic tang that sent a shiver crawling up their spine.
The living room stretched out before them, wrapped in a suffocating stillness. The first thing they saw was the furniture—large, heavy pieces that once might have looked regal but were now draped under sheets of white cloth, their ghostly outlines standing in eerie stillness. The cloths were stained yellowed with age, some torn at the edges, revealing glimpses of the forgotten furniture underneath. The couches and armchairs faced inward, as if frozen mid-conversation, waiting for occupants who would never return.
A staircase loomed at the far end of the room, its wooden banister warped with time. A single, dust-coated chandelier hung from the ceiling, its crystal pieces dulled, reflecting no light except the pale shards filtering through the grimy windows. Cobwebs stretched across the corners, swaying ever so slightly, disturbed by the intrusion of fresh air from the open door.
To their right, a doorway led to what seemed to be a dining area, a long table barely visible beneath another heavy drape. The chairs were tucked in neatly, as if still expecting a meal to be served. A cracked mirror hung on the far wall, its fractured surface warping their reflections, making it seem as though shadowy figures lurked just beyond the edges of their vision.
The house was utterly silent, yet it felt as if it was listening, watching. The floor creaked softly under their hesitant steps, a whispering protest against their presence. The walls, covered in faded wallpaper peeling at the edges, seemed to breathe, expanding and contracting in the dim light. The air felt thick—charged with something unseen yet undeniably present.
Aiah swallowed hard, feeling the weight of the house pressing down on them. Behind her, the others had fallen into tense silence, eyes darting across the room, shoulders stiff with unease. Even Sheena, who had been protesting the loudest outside, said nothing now.
Somewhere in the distance—perhaps from upstairs—there was a faint sound. A soft creak. As if someone had shifted their weight ever so slightly on an old wooden floor.
No one moved.
Aiah’s grip on the doorknob tightened.
The house was supposed to be abandoned.
So why did it feel like they weren’t alone?
------------
The floorboards, scratched and scuffed from years of neglect, groaned softly as Aiah took her first step inside. A fine layer of dust coated everything, disturbed only by their presence, their footprints leaving temporary imprints on the wooden floor. The curtains, tattered, swayed ever so slightly despite the still air, making it feel as though something unseen had just moved past them. Shadows stretched unnaturally long in the dimness, shifting as if alive, playing tricks on the mind.
Aiah exhaled slowly, glancing over her shoulder. The others still lingered just beyond the threshold, huddled close together, their faces twisted in a mix of unease and hesitation.
“Well?” she asked, arching a brow.
No one moved.
“Seriously?” Aiah sighed, placing her hands on her hips.
Maloi was the first to speak, hugging herself. “I feel like we just walked into a horror movie.”
Sheena nodded furiously. “Yeah, and you know who dies first in horror movies? The idiots who decide to actually go inside.”
Stacey muttered under her breath. “This is how we die. I just know it.”
Colet gave them all an unimpressed look. “Or maybe we just investigate like normal human beings instead of acting like we’re starring in Paranormal Activity.”
“Yeah? You go first, then,” Sheena shot back.
Colet groaned and pushed past them, stepping just inside. Dust kicked up around her feet as she wrinkled her nose. “It’s just an old house, guys.”
But even as she said it, her voice was quieter, like the weight of the house was pressing down on her, on all of them.
Aiah turned back toward the living room, her fingers unconsciously tightening into fists. The place was empty. Completely empty. And yet, she couldn't shake the feeling that something—someone—was watching them.
They all stood in a loose huddle at the center of the living room, the dim light filtering through the dusty windows casting eerie, elongated shadows on the cloth-covered furniture. The air inside was thick, carrying the stale scent of abandonment mixed with something faintly metallic, almost like rust. A heavy silence hung between them, the only sound the occasional creak from the wooden floorboards as they shifted their weight uncomfortably.
After what felt like an eternity, Mikha exhaled loudly and crossed her arms. "Okay, so... what exactly are we supposed to do? Just stand here?"
"That would honestly be preferable more than actively searching for whatever might kill us," Stacey muttered, glancing warily at the corners of the room as if expecting something to crawl out of them.
"Yeah, I mean, do we even have a game plan here? Or are we just winging it like a bunch of dumb horror movie extras?" Maloi added, hugging herself.
"I say we leave now before we even have to find out," Sheena suggested, already half-turned toward the door.
Aiah rolled her eyes, ignoring them. "Celeste said in her letter that if we want to know more about Jhoanna's case, the answer is in here." She glanced around the shadowy room. "So, we look."
Sheena gave an exaggerated shudder. "She could’ve at least left them outside. Maybe on a nice laminated cheat sheet. Just saying."
"Yeah, real inconsiderate of her," Maloi agreed. "Leaving clues in a creepy house like this. Typical horror movie setup. I bet the next step is a power outage, followed by one of us getting possessed."
"Please don't manifest that into existence," Stacey hissed, her eyes darting toward the furnitures as if one of them might suddenly lurch forward.
Gwen, who had been quietly scanning the room, finally spoke. "We should check the rest of the house. See if there's anything left behind."
Colet nodded in agreement. "Yeah, we’ll cover more ground if we split up. The faster we do this, the faster we can leave."
The reaction was immediate.
"ABSOLUTELY NOT!" Stacey, Maloi, and Sheena protested in unison, practically lunging toward Colet as if she had just suggested they all play a game of tag with ghosts.
"Are you insane?!" Maloi whisper-screamed. "That’s the number one rule in every horror movie! You do NOT split up!"
"Yeah! Have none of you learned anything from watching literally any scary movie ever?" Stacey threw her hands up.
"I swear, the second we separate, that’s when things start moving on their own," Sheena hissed. "Or worse—one of us disappears! I am NOT playing that game!"
"Oh my god, will you three shut up?" Aiah snapped, already fed up, rubbing her temples and took a deep breath. "If you three don’t shut up, I’m making you three into a team and send you to search the house together."
The trio immediately snapped their mouths shut, eyes wide with horror.
"Okay, wow, no need for threats," Maloi said, holding her hands up defensively. "Jeez, Aiah, where’s the love?"
"Yeah, I thought we were in this together!" Sheena whined, gripping Colet’s sleeve like a lifeline.
"Oh, we are," Aiah said, giving them a sickly-sweet smile. "That’s why I’ll be sure to put you three in the most haunted part of the house."
Silence.
"You know what?" Stacey exhaled sharply. "Maybe splitting up isn’t so bad after all."
"Right?! Like, who needs company? We’re independent!" Maloi laughed nervously.
"Super independent!" Sheena chimed in. "But, uh… maybe not alone-alone. Just… a respectable level of togetherness."
Aiah crossed her arms. "That’s what I thought."
She stood at the center of the living room, her arms crossed as she addressed the group. "Alright, before we do anything, let’s bring out what we brought." She gestured for them to take out their gear.
One by one, they pulled out their flashlights, their beams flickering dimly against the dust-laden air. Then came the extras.
But, of course, it didn’t end there.
Maloi reached into her bag and, with an absolutely serious face, pulled out a crucifix, a small glass bottle filled with what looked like salt, and a folded-up piece of paper. "Holy protection."
Sheena smirked. "Pfft, amateur." Then, with a dramatic flourish, she pulled out a small dagger, a rosary, and—much to everyone’s confusion—a packet of instant noodles. "You never know if you’ll need to fight a ghost or snack on the go."
Stacey, not to be outdone, revealed a lighter, a bundle of sage, and what appeared to be a water gun filled with some unknown liquid.
Mikha deadpanned. "I don’t even want to ask what’s in that."
"It’s holy water," Stacey said proudly. "Blessed by my cousin’s priest friend’s uncle."
Gwen blinked. "...That’s suspiciously distant."
"It’s still holy!"
Gwen pinched the bridge of her nose. "How did any of you survive this long?"
Colet shook her head, unimpressed. "I swear, we’re going to be the first-ever ghost hunters taken out by their own stupidity."
Aiah, pinching the bridge of her nose, sighed. "Whatever. Just… keep your weapons, snacks, and, uh, DIY exorcism kits to yourselves and listen up."
The room fell into a tense silence as they all turned to her, the jokes momentarily taking a backseat to the weight of what they were about to do.
“We need to cover as much ground as possible. Maloi, Colet, and Mikha—you’re one team. The rest of us will stick together."
Maloi frowned. "Why are you sending me with these nerds?"
Colet smacked her arm. "Excuse me?"
"I mean, no offense," Maloi said, clearly not meaning it. "But I feel like Sheena should be in our group. If something scary happens, I need a human shield."
Sheena gasped. "Why me?!"
"You run toward danger, Sheena!" Maloi pointed an accusing finger at her. "If something shows up, you’d probably chase after it instead of running away like a normal person."
Sheena crossed her arms. "That is—" She paused. "Okay, fair. But still."
"Enough," Aiah cut in before they could spiral into another ridiculous debate,
She scanned their faces before asking, "Which floor do you want to search?"
No one spoke.
The silence stretched, growing heavier with each passing second. No one wanted to decide. Even Maloi, who was always the first to make reckless choices, remained tight-lipped. The first floor was covered in darkness, corridors disappearing into unknown spaces, while the staircase leading to the second floor stood like a gaping maw, an invitation to something unseen.
Aiah sighed."Now, since no one’s jumping at the chance to pick a floor, let’s leave it to chance. We’ll flip a coin. Correct guess takes the first floor; wrong guess takes the second."
She reached into her pocket and pulled out a coin, holding it up for them to see.
Blank stares.
"Seriously?" Aiah deadpanned. "It’s a coin toss, not rocket science."
The three exchanged uncertain glances before Mikha, with a long, suffering sigh, muttered, "Heads."
Aiah flipped the coin, the metallic glint catching the dim light as it spun in the air before landing in her palm. She opened her hand.
Heads.
"Looks like you guys get the first floor," Aiah announced
Mikha visibly relaxed. "Thank god."
Maloi fist-pumped. "Yes! Ground level, baby!" Then she turned to Stacey and Sheena with a smirk. "Enjoy your haunted attic tour."
Sheena groaned dramatically, clutching her head. "I knew it. This is why I don’t gamble. The universe hates me."
"The universe hates all of us for being here," Stacey muttered.
Aiah gave them a sharp glare, and both Sheena and Stacey instantly clamped their mouths shut.
She exhaled, slow and steady, before she squared her shoulders and took a step forward, her gaze sweeping over the group.
"Alright. Final reminder," she said, voice even but firm. "Be careful. We don’t know what we’re looking for yet, but if anything feels wrong, trust your instincts. If something happens—" she paused, then reached into her pocket, pulling out two small whistles. The silver glinted under the dim light.
The group remained silent, watching her, eyes flickering between the whistles and her face.
Aiah stepped toward Colet and placed one in her hand. "If something happens, just blow it. Don’t hesitate. We’ll come running."
Colet nodded, her fingers tightening around the whistle. No jokes. No sarcastic remarks. Just a slow, understanding nod.
“40 minutes,” Aiah turned back to the group, her voice unwavering. “That’s all we’re giving this place for now. We spread out, we search, and we meet back here in exactly 40 minutes. If anyone sees something off, hears something weird, or just gets a bad feeling—you call it. We’re not here to be heroes, we’re here to find answers.”
No one answered. Not immediately.
Instead, Aiah took the time to study each of them. Gwen was gripping the strap of her bag so tightly her knuckles had turned white. Colet was staring at the whistle in her hand, lips pressed into a thin line. Mikha looked like she was trying to keep her breathing steady, her hands in her pockets as if to hide how they trembled. Maloi, Stacey, and Sheena—normally the loudest of the bunch—weren’t saying a word. Even Sheena, who had been full of sarcastic complaints minutes ago, wasn’t cracking a joke.
They were all scared. And Aiah knew it.
She sighed, softening her voice. “Look, I know this is terrifying. I feel it too. But Celeste left us these coordinates for a reason. Whatever we’re looking for, it’s here. And the only way we’ll get out of here with answers is if we work together.”
Still, no one responded. Their expressions remained fixed in reluctant dread.
She rolled her shoulders back, then forced a small, confident smile. "Nothing will happen," she reassured them. "Not as long as we’re together."
Then, with steady hands, she raised her right hand in the air, palm down, waiting.
It took a moment. The silence stretched, heavy, suffocating. Then, hesitantly, one by one, they followed.
Mikha placed her hand on top of Aiah’s, sighing. "I swear, if we die, I’m haunting you."
Colet followed, muttering, "Yeah, this is a cult now."
Gwen hesitated, but then placed her hand over theirs, exhaling softly. "This feels like the beginning of a bad idea."
Maloi groaned but joined in anyway. "I hate this. I hate all of you."
Stacey sighed dramatically. "I should’ve just stayed home."
And finally, Sheena, who huffed as she slapped her hand on top. "We’re so doomed."
Aiah looked at them all, lips twitching upward. "We’re in this together."
She gave a single nod, and they all pulled their hands away. The air felt heavier than before, the weight of their own apprehension pressing down on them.
But it was time.
"Let’s do this."