Dark Stormy Night

 It was a dark and stormy night, the kind of night that made you want to curl up in bed with a good book and a hot cup of tea. But I had to go out, I had to meet my friends at the old abandoned mansion on the outskirts of town.

We had heard rumors about the mansion, about how it was haunted by the ghost of a young woman who had died there under mysterious circumstances. But we didn't believe in ghosts, at least not really. We were just a group of friends looking for a thrill, trying to scare each other with ghost stories and jump scares.

So we gathered our courage and set out into the storm, our flashlights barely piercing the darkness as we made our way through the overgrown path leading to the mansion. It was a dilapidated, run-down old building, with broken windows and peeling paint. It looked like it had been abandoned for decades, and as we approached, we could feel the sense of foreboding growing within us.

But we were determined to go through with it, and so we pushed open the creaky old door and stepped inside. The air was musty and stale, and it felt like the walls were closing in on us as we made our way through the empty rooms. We could hear the rain pounding against the roof and the wind howling through the broken windows, and it was all we could do to keep from turning tail and running back out into the storm.

But we persevered, and soon we found ourselves in the grand ballroom, a massive room with a high ceiling and a polished wood floor. It was here that we heard the first strange noise, a faint whisper that seemed to be coming from nowhere and everywhere at the same time. We froze in place, straining to hear more, but the whisper faded away as quickly as it had come.

We tried to laugh it off, telling ourselves that it was just the wind or our own imagination playing tricks on us. But as the night went on, the strange noises and whispers became more frequent, and we could feel a presence in the room with us, watching and waiting.

We knew we had to leave, but it was like something was holding us there, refusing to let us go. And then, just as we were about to make a run for it, we saw her. The ghost of the young woman, her pale face contorted in agony and her long hair streaming behind her. She seemed to be reaching out to us, trying to tell us something, but we couldn't understand what she was saying.

We ran, our screams echoing through the empty halls as we stumbled through the darkness, trying to find our way out. And when we finally emerged from the mansion, drenched and shaking, we knew that we would never forget the horrors we had encountered that night. We vowed to never return to that cursed place, and we never did. The mansion still stands to this day, a testament to the horrors that lurk within its walls.