The Shadows in Oakridge House
The Oakridge House had been vacant for years, standing ominously at the end of the cul-de-sac. When the Carters moved in, they shrugged off the rumors of the house being cursed. “Old houses creak,” Mr. Carter said, brushing aside the neighborhood’s warnings.
The first week passed uneventfully. Then, little things started to happen. Sarah, the youngest daughter, claimed she saw shadows moving in her room at night. Her teenage brother, Lucas, teased her relentlessly until he woke one night to find his desk chair spinning slowly on its own.
Mrs. Carter dismissed the odd occurrences as coincidence until one evening, when the family sat down for dinner. The lights flickered, and the sound of footsteps echoed from the second floor. Mr. Carter grabbed a flashlight and went to investigate, finding nothing but silence.
The following night, Sarah screamed. The family rushed to her room to find her pointing at the closet. “It’s in there! It’s watching me!” she cried. Mr. Carter opened the closet, revealing only hanging clothes and empty shelves. But Sarah insisted she’d seen something.
Determined to put an end to the fear, Lucas suggested exploring the basement, the only part of the house they hadn’t ventured into. Together, the family descended the creaky wooden stairs. The air grew colder, and the faint scent of mildew filled their nostrils.
In the corner of the basement, they found an old, locked trunk. Lucas pried it open, revealing faded photographs and a diary belonging to a girl named Lila. The diary described a happy family who had lived in the house decades ago—until the father began acting strangely. The final entry read: “He’s not my father anymore. The shadows took him.”
As Mrs. Carter read the entry aloud, the basement door slammed shut. The single light bulb flickered and went out, plunging them into darkness. A deep, guttural voice echoed, “You shouldn’t have opened it.”
The family huddled together as shadows began to move, coalescing into a tall, humanoid figure with glowing eyes. It reached toward them, its presence freezing the air.
“We’re leaving,” Mr. Carter said, his voice shaking. But the figure laughed, a sound that rattled their bones. “No one leaves,” it said.
Thinking quickly, Sarah grabbed the diary and shouted, “We’re not afraid of you!” The figure hesitated, its form flickering. Lucas joined in, “You don’t control us!” The rest of the family chimed in, shouting defiance. The figure let out an ear-splitting shriek before dissipating into the shadows.
The basement door creaked open, and the family fled the house. They left Oakridge that very night, never returning. To this day, the house remains empty, but locals swear they see shadows in the windows, waiting for the next family brave enough to move in.