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| Mia & Olivia |
Chapter 1: Arrival
The forest stretched endlessly, its silence broken only by the crunch of boots against frozen snow. Mia glanced over her shoulder, her chest tightening as the skeletal branches above seemed to claw at the night sky.
“This is crazy, Olivia,” she muttered, pulling her scarf tighter. “We shouldn’t have come here.”
Olivia rolled her eyes, the strap of her camera bag slipping from her shoulder. “It’s just a lodge, Mia. And we’ve stayed in worse places during our trips. Remember that crumbling hostel in Bavaria?”
“That hostel wasn’t in the middle of nowhere,” Mia shot back. Her gaze lingered on the dark silhouette ahead—a decaying lodge surrounded by the oppressive weight of the forest.
Olivia grinned. “Well, this place has history. Mystery. Perfect for Christmas content.”
“Perfect for nightmares,” Mia mumbled, her voice drowned by the creak of the lodge door as Olivia pushed it open.
Inside, the air felt heavier, stale with age and dampness. The grand hall stretched before them, its chandelier hanging like a skeletal hand. Olivia whistled. “Talk about atmosphere.”
Mia wasn’t as enthused. She trailed her fingers along a banister, the wood crumbling at her touch. “Atmosphere of death, maybe.”
“Relax.” Olivia had already unpacked her camera, adjusting the lens as she focused on the ornate fireplace at the end of the hall. “Let’s make the most of this.”
Reluctantly, Mia settled into one of the tattered armchairs, her laptop balanced on her knees. Her research on dark folklore about Christmas spirits offered little comfort. Every entry seemed to connect to something haunting—ghostly apparitions during festive holidays, whispers of twisted rituals tied to winter solstice nights, and chilling tales of lodges like the one they now inhabited.
The sound of Olivia’s camera shutter echoed through the space, a rhythmic reminder of her friend’s boldness. “You should check this out,” Olivia called, her voice muffled from another room.
Mia sighed, closing her laptop. “Coming.”
Chapter 2: The First Night
The lodge felt colder at night. Shadows danced along the walls as the fireplace crackled weakly.
“Did you hear that?” Olivia whispered, sitting up in her sleeping bag.
Mia stirred, half-asleep. “What?”
“Steps. Upstairs.”
Mia listened, her pulse quickening as faint footsteps echoed above. “It’s an old house, Liv. Probably the wood creaking.”
But as the footsteps grew louder, the excuses felt hollow.
“We should check,” Olivia said, grabbing her flashlight.
“I’d rather not,” Mia replied, but Olivia’s determination dragged her along.
The stairs groaned beneath their weight as they climbed, the beam of their flashlight slicing through the darkness. At the top, the corridor stretched endlessly, doors lining its sides like sentinels.
“This wasn’t this long before,” Mia whispered.
Olivia didn’t answer, her camera clicking as she moved.
At the end of the hall, a door stood ajar, revealing a room bathed in pale moonlight.
Inside, a chair sat in the center of the room, a journal resting on its seat. The pages were filled with frantic scribbles—tales of strange occurrences and eerie tales of winter solstice nights.
“What is this?” Mia asked, leaning closer.
The last page bore a chilling message: They’re here.
“Who’s ‘they’?” Olivia whispered.
Chapter 3: The Second Night
Mia awoke with a start. The whispers were louder this time, not distant like before but surrounding her, seeping into her ears like a faint breeze carrying sinister secrets. She held her breath, her eyes darting around the dark room.
“Liv,” she whispered, shaking Olivia’s shoulder. “Wake up. Do you hear that?”
Olivia groaned, rolling onto her side. “What? I don’t hear anything.”
“They’re whispering again.” Mia’s voice trembled.
The whispers stopped abruptly, leaving only the sound of the wind whistling through the broken windows. Olivia propped herself up on one elbow, her face groggy but annoyed. “Mia, you’re just spooking yourself. It’s an old house—it creaks, it groans, that’s all.”
Mia wasn’t convinced. She clutched the flashlight she kept beside her sleeping bag. “It’s not just the house. I feel it…watching us.”
Olivia sighed, rubbing her face. “Mia, go back to sleep. You’re overthinking.”
But Mia didn’t sleep. She sat upright, her flashlight pointed at the shadows that seemed to stretch and dance along the walls. She tried to convince herself that they were just tricks of the dim firelight, but deep down, she felt otherwise.
Hours later, as the first gray light of dawn seeped into the room, Mia’s body finally gave in to exhaustion.
By morning, Olivia seemed unfazed. “You need to relax,” she said, crunching on a stale granola bar. “This place is cool, sure, but it’s not haunted.”
Mia scowled. “How do you explain the footsteps? And the whispers? And that journal?!”
Olivia shrugged, slinging her camera strap over her shoulder. “Our minds can make us hear things when we’re already scared. It’s psychology. But if it makes you feel better, I’ll explore the lodge and see if there’s anything actually creepy going on.”
Mia rolled her eyes. “Great idea. Go hunt ghosts while I try not to lose my mind.”
Later that day, Mia ventured into the kitchen, seeking some solitude. The air was heavy, the faint smell of mildew and something metallic lingering. The sink stood against the far wall, a relic of the past. Its once-shiny surface was dulled with rust, and the drain was clogged with what looked like decades of grime.
Her body ached with tension, a physical manifestation of the fear she’d been carrying since they arrived. She crouched before the sink, letting her head rest against the cool edge of the counter. She couldn’t hold it any longer.
As the urine flowed, relief was brief. The sound of liquid hitting the metal basin was startlingly loud, echoing unnaturally in the cramped kitchen.
Then she heard it—the hum. Low and guttural, rising from the depths of the pipes. Mia froze. Her eyes darted toward the faucet, which began to drip slowly, each droplet forming a tiny ripple in the stagnant water below.
The hum grew louder, now accompanied by a faint scratching sound.
“Mia?” Olivia’s voice came from the doorway.
Mia jumped, hitting her head on the counter. “Don’t sneak up on me like that!”
“Are you okay?” Olivia asked, her brow furrowed.
“Fine. Just…” Mia glanced back at the sink. The sounds were gone, as if they’d never existed.
Chapter 4: The Lodge’s Secrets
As the sun began to set, the lodge seemed to shift. Walls that once felt sturdy seemed to breathe, their surfaces bulging ever so slightly. The corridors grew darker, even with their flashlights.
Mia couldn’t shake the feeling that the lodge was alive. Every creak and groan felt deliberate, like a predator sizing up its prey.
Olivia remained in denial. “We’re just psyching ourselves out. This place is old; it’s bound to make noises.”
“Then explain the journal,” Mia snapped, holding up the book. The fresh handwriting glared back at them. They’re here.
“Maybe someone stayed here before us and left it to scare people,” Olivia suggested, though her voice wavered.
Mia wasn’t buying it. “And the fact that it moves by itself? What about that?”
Olivia had no answer.
That night, Mia woke up to Olivia shaking her. “Mia. Get up. Look.”
Mia groggily sat up, her flashlight flickering to life. “What is it?”
Olivia pointed to the fireplace mantel. The journal was there again, now open to a new page. The words were scrawled in jagged letters: The lodge consumes the fearful.
“We need to leave,” Olivia whispered.
Mia nodded. “Now.”
But when they tried to open the front door, it wouldn’t budge. Olivia grabbed a chair and hurled it at the nearest window, but the glass didn’t even crack.
“What’s happening?” Olivia cried.
Mia backed away, her breathing shallow. “It doesn’t want us to leave.”
The lodge began to shift around them. Corridors that had once been familiar twisted into endless loops. Doors opened to rooms they had never seen before—rooms filled with decaying furniture, mirrors that reflected only shadows, and walls covered in scribbles that echoed the journal’s words.
The whispers returned, louder now, accompanied by soft, childlike laughter.
Olivia clutched her camera. “This isn’t real. This isn’t real.”
Mia grabbed her arm. “Focus! We need to find another way out!”
But every path led them back to the main hall. The fireplace roared to life, its flames unnaturally blue. Shadows began to creep across the walls, moving with purpose.
“Mia, what’s happening?” Olivia’s voice cracked, tears streaming down her face.
Mia didn’t answer. She couldn’t. Her gaze was fixed on the journal, which now floated above the flames, its pages turning rapidly before bursting into ash.
The shadows grew, their forms taking on the shape of twisted figures.
Chapter 5: The Final Night
By the third night, the whispers had become screams, echoing through the lodge like a cacophony of despair.
Mia and Olivia huddled in the main hall, their courage eroded. The journal appeared again, now open to a new page: The lodge feeds on fear.
Olivia snapped. “We can’t stay here. We’ll die if we do.”
But as they tried to leave, the lodge revealed its true nature. Walls shifted, corridors looped back on themselves, and the shadows gained form.
The Last Stand
Olivia’s camera captured their final moments—photos filled with blurred motion and shadowy figures.
When rescue teams arrived days later, the lodge was silent. Mia and Olivia were gone, their belongings scattered across the hall. Olivia’s camera, still functional, offered the only clues.
The photos showed the two women in various poses, but in each one, a shadow loomed closer. In the last photo, it stood between them, its eyes gleaming with malevolence.