House no.9

The realtor smiled a little too brightly as she handed us the keys. "Congratulations," she said. Before either of us could respond, she climbed into her car and drove away, leaving us standing alone in front of House No. 9. Harper slipped her hand into mine and gave it a reassuring squeeze. "We're really doing this," she said with a grin. I looked up at the house. It was far from fancy. The faded brick walls were covered in ivy, the paint on the porch had begun to peel, and every window looked dark despite the afternoon sun. It looked like something straight out of The Vampire Diaries. "It's... charming," Harper said. "It looks haunted," I replied. She laughed, bumping her shoulder against mine. "You're impossible." The rest of the afternoon disappeared beneath a mountain of boxes, dust, and endless cleaning. Every room seemed dirtier than the last, as though no one had set foot inside for years. By the time the sun slipped below the trees, we'd barely unpacked half of our things. "I officially hate moving," I groaned, dropping onto one of the unopened boxes. Harper smiled. "You'll survive." She headed into the kitchen to make something simple for dinner while I escaped upstairs for a much-needed shower. When I came back down wearing my nightgown, my damp hair twisted into a messy bun, the smell of pasta filled the house. Harper had already set the table. "There she is," she said, smiling. Dinner was quiet, filled with tired smiles and comfortable silence. Afterward, I washed the dishes while Harper insisted on moving the remaining furniture. "I've got it," she said for what felt like the hundredth time. "You know I'm capable of lifting things too, right?" "You've done enough today." I rolled my eyes but helped anyway, dusting the bookshelves and arranging a few boxes while she pushed the heavier furniture into place. By the time we finally crawled into bed, it was almost two in the morning. Every muscle in my body ached. The mattress was softer than I expected, and within seconds I felt Harper's arm slip around my waist. "You still awake?" she murmured, her voice rough with exhaustion. "Barely." She smiled against my shoulder. "We survived day one." "For now," I whispered. A few moments later, her breathing became slow and steady. Mine didn't. Just as I was about to fall asleep... A single creak echoed from somewhere in the hallway. Then another. Slow. Deliberate. Like footsteps. I held my breath. The bedroom door was still closed. So whatever was outside... ...was standing right behind it. I stared at the bedroom door, my heartbeat thudding against my ribs. Nothing. The silence settled over the room again. I let out the breath I'd been holding and shook my head. It's an old house, I told myself. Old houses make noise. The floorboards creaked. The pipes groaned. The wind rattled the windows. There had to be a logical explanation. Careful not to wake Harper, I slipped out of bed and reached for my phone on the nightstand. The screen lit up. 2:17 a.m. Using the flashlight, I slowly opened the bedroom door. The hallway was empty. A cold draft brushed against my bare legs. I frowned. We'd closed every window before going to bed. "Hello?" I called softly. No answer. The beam of my flashlight swept across the hallway, catching faded wallpaper and dusty picture frames left behind by the previous owners. One photograph hung slightly crooked. I didn't remember seeing it before. Curiosity pulled me closer. It showed a family of four standing on the front porch of House No. 9. The picture was old, the colors faded with age. Someone had scratched out every face. A shiver ran down my spine. "That's... creepy." As I turned to head back to the bedroom, something caught my eye. At the very end of the hallway... A door stood open. I froze. I was certain it had been closed when we came upstairs. Trying to ignore the knot forming in my stomach, I walked toward it. The room beyond was empty. Just four walls, a cracked mirror, and a single rocking chair sitting in the middle of the floor. It moved. Back. Forth. Back. Forth. Very slowly. There wasn't a breeze. I swallowed hard. "Harper?" I whispered. No reply. The rocking stopped. Silence. Then, from somewhere behind me... A woman's voice, barely louder than a breath. "You're in my room." Every hair on my neck stood on end. I stood frozen, staring into the dark hallway. The silence was almost unbearable. Maybe I really was overthinking it. It was an old house. Old houses creaked. I let out a slow breath and turned to head back to the bedroom. Suddenly, a pair of arms wrapped around my waist. I gasped, a scream catching in my throat. "Harper!" I spun around, clutching my chest. She burst into laughter, her eyes half-lidded with sleep. "Oh my God," she giggled. "You should've seen your face." "You scared me half to death!" I whispered, swatting her arm. "I'm sorry." She smiled, pulling me into a hug. "I woke up and you were gone. I figured I'd come find my brave ghost hunter." I rolled my eyes, though I couldn't help smiling. "I heard something." She glanced down the hallway before looking back at me. "It's an old house, Sage. The wood's settling, the pipes are ancient, and you're exhausted." "I know..." She brushed a loose strand of hair behind my ear. "Come back to bed." I nodded. As we walked toward the bedroom, I glanced over my shoulder one last time. The hallway was empty. Or so I thought. Just before I closed the bedroom door, I caught the faint outline of someone standing at the far end of the hall. Perfectly still. Watching us. I blinked. They were gone.