The Ravenwood Palace

The night was quiet, too quiet. Not even the crickets dared to sing as Anna Fletcher crossed the overgrown path toward Ravenwood Palace. The full moon hid behind heavy clouds, and the trees seemed to twist in her direction, their branches clawing at the sky like skeletal hands. The palace rose before her, a silhouette of jagged spires and broken windows, its stones slick with rain and centuries of decay. For years she had read about this place—the cursed mansion, the seat of the Ravenwood family’s tragedies. Tonight, she would step inside it herself. Her lantern shook in her grip as she unlatched the iron gates. They groaned in protest, swinging open on their own before she could push. Anna froze, breath caught in her throat. She told herself it was only the wind. Only rust. Only her nerves. She pressed forward. Inside, the air was colder, heavy with the smell of damp wood and something sweet, rotten, clinging to the walls. The grand hall stretched out in front of her, vast and empty, with its marble floor cracked and veined with moss. Dusty portraits loomed overhead—paintings of men and women in fine dress, their eyes following her as she passed. Her lantern flame wavered. The silence pressed in. “Hello?” she called softly, though she knew no one would answer. A whisper slithered back. Her name. Anna’s skin prickled. She spun, raising the lantern high, but the hall was empty. Her boots clicked against the marble as she hurried deeper into the palace, forcing herself to breathe evenly, forcing herself not to run. She found herself in a corridor lined with doors, each one shut, each one marked with scratches—as though someone had clawed to get out. She swallowed hard and reached for her notebook, fumbling to write: Long corridor… doors appear untouched… strange markings. A floorboard creaked behind her. Anna turned sharply. The corridor stretched on in both directions, empty, silent. But her pulse thundered in her ears. The lantern flickered again. Then she saw it. At the far end of the hall stood a figure—tall, draped in shadow. She couldn’t see its face, but she felt its eyes on her. Cold. Unblinking. Her hand trembled. The lantern sputtered out. Darkness swallowed her whole. The whisper came again, closer this time, curling against her ear like smoke. Leave… or stay forever. Anna’s breath hitched. She bolted, racing back toward the grand doors. Her boots echoed, frantic, desperate. She slammed her hands against the oak, but before she could push, the doors thundered shut on their own, the boom shaking the entire hall. “No!” she screamed, pounding against the wood. “Let me out!” Behind her, footsteps approached. Slow. Measured. Inevitable. The lantern slipped from her grasp, shattering on the marble floor. Shards of glass glittered like fallen stars before the darkness devoured them. The last thing Anna saw, in a brief flash of moonlight through the window, was a pale hand reaching for her shoulder. Her scream pierced the night— then was silenced. And Ravenwood Palace stood still once more, waiting for its next guest..