I can’t take it anymore. I thought moving into this new house would be a fresh start, but it’s turned into a never-ending nightmare. From the moment we stepped inside, I felt uneasy, like something was watching us. But my husband brushed it off as my imagination running wild.
As the days passed, strange things started happening. Doors would open and close on their own, and I would hear footsteps when no one was around. And then there were the nightmares. Every night, I would dream of a dark figure lurking in the shadows, whispering my name in a voice that sent chills down my spine.
I tried to ignore it all, but it was getting harder and harder to do so. My husband didn’t seem to notice anything was wrong, but I knew I couldn’t keep living like this. So I did some research and discovered that our house had a dark past.
Years ago, a family had lived here and their son had gone missing. They searched high and low for him, but he was never found. Rumor had it that he had been taken by some kind of demonic entity that had haunted the house ever since.
The more I read, the more convinced I became that our house was cursed. And then one night, it all came to a head. I woke up to the sound of scratching at our bedroom door. When I got up to investigate, I saw a shadowy figure standing there, staring at me with glowing red eyes.
I screamed for my husband, but he didn’t wake up. It was like he was under some kind of spell. The figure started moving closer and closer, and I knew I had to do something before it was too late. I grabbed a cross from my nightstand and held it up, hoping it would protect me.
To my surprise, the figure recoiled and disappeared into thin air. I knew then that I had to get out of that house before it was too late. We moved out the next day and never looked back.
But even now, years later, I still have nightmares about that demon haunting our old house. And every time I hear a strange noise in the dark, I can’t help but wonder if it’s still out there, waiting for its next victim.