Whispers From The Other Side

Elara's scream never left her throat.

The hand around her wrist wasn't just cold—it was wrong. The texture felt ancient, like brittle paper stretched over bone, and it tightened with inhuman strength.

Her body froze, paralyzed by something deeper than fear. A force far beyond her control.

Then, suddenly—

Light.

A blinding flash erupted from her chest, forcing the darkness to shrink back. The grip on her wrist vanished, and Elara collapsed onto the wooden floor, gasping for air.

The house groaned, its walls shuddering as the shadows slithered back into the corners.

Elara's hands trembled as she looked down at herself. The key—the one she had found earlier—was glowing faintly, its rusted edges pulsing with an eerie white light.

"What the hell is happening?"

She barely had time to think before a loud crash sounded from the front of the house.

The door had burst open.

Elara scrambled to her feet, her body screaming in protest, and bolted toward the exit. Her feet pounded against the floor as she sprinted toward the open doorway—toward the cold night air.

But just as she reached it—

The door slammed shut in her face.

A deafening boom shook the entire house. The impact sent Elara stumbling back, her breath ripping from her lungs.

No.

No, no, no.

She grabbed the handle with both hands and pulled. Twisted. Yanked.

It wouldn't budge.

She was trapped.

Behind her, the darkness shifted.

Something moved.

A whisper, soft and crawling, slithered along the walls.

"You cannot leave."

Elara turned slowly.

The hallway stretched before her, impossibly long, the shadows warping its shape. The doll was no longer in its chair.

It was standing in the doorway.

Watching.

Its head tilted.

And then—

It took a step toward her.

Elara's pulse exploded.

She stumbled backward, her body screaming at her to run, but her legs wouldn't move fast enough.

Then—

The temperature dropped to freezing.

Frost spiderwebbed across the floorboards. Her breath came out in visible puffs as she clenched her jaw against the cold.

And the doll…

The doll was not alone anymore.

Figures emerged from the shadows—pale, hollow-eyed, whispering. Their skeletal fingers stretched toward her, their voices blending into a chorus of pleas and warnings.

"He is coming."

Elara backed away, her chest heaving.

"Who? Who is coming?" she demanded, her voice breaking.

The whispers stopped.

And then—

One word.

One name.

Spoken from a mouth that should not exist.

"Asmodiel."

Elara's vision blurred. The very name sent a wave of sickness rolling through her stomach.

The house shook violently. The walls groaned, the ceiling cracked, and somewhere deep below—

A door creaked open.

Something stirred in the darkness.

And this time, it wasn't a ghost.