THE ABANDONED HOUSE

Episode 4

The Fall

The abandoned house loomed larger in the moonlight. Its jagged rooflines cast crooked shadows across the street, and the broken shutters clattered faintly in the night wind.

Andrew’s stomach churned as he stood by the gate again. He hadn’t wanted to come, not after the last time, but Danny had insisted. She had a way of making resistance impossible, her stubborn spark burning through every objection.

“Don’t look like that,” she teased, pushing the gate open with a screech. “You’d think we were about to march into hell.”

Andrew swallowed. “Feels like it.”

Jayson hung back, arms crossed tight over his chest. “This is stupid. We shouldn’t even be here. If anyone sees us—”

“No one’s watching,” Danny cut in. Her eyes gleamed in the dark, and the grin on her face was wild, reckless. “That’s the beauty of it. The whole town’s too scared of this place. It’s ours.”

Andrew wanted to argue, but Danny was already halfway up the path. With a groan, he followed. Jayson trailed reluctantly after, muttering under his breath.

Inside, the house was colder than before, as if it held its own weather. The air was thick with dust, and every breath stung Andrew’s lungs. Their footsteps echoed strangely, like the walls were listening.

Danny moved ahead with fearless strides, sweeping her flashlight across the peeling wallpaper and sagging furniture. “See? Still standing. What’s everyone so afraid of?”

Andrew’s eyes lingered on the staircase. Its wooden railing bowed dangerously, the steps cracked and warped. “Danny, don’t—”

But she was already climbing.

“Race you to the top!” she called, her laughter echoing through the rotting halls.

“Danny, stop!” Jayson’s voice cracked, panic seeping in. “That thing’s not safe!”

Andrew’s heart hammered. He could see the way the steps buckled under her weight, hear the faint groans of the wood. He wanted to reach for her, to pull her back, but she was too far ahead.

And then it happened.

The scream tore through the silence. A sharp c***k echoed as the railing gave way. Andrew’s light caught a flash of her wide eyes, her arms flailing—then her body plummeting.

The sound of her hitting the floor was sickening.

“Danny!” Andrew’s voice broke as he stumbled forward, nearly tripping down the stairs. He dropped to his knees beside her. Her body lay twisted, her head at an unnatural angle, her eyes staring up at nothing.

“God—no, no, no…” Andrew’s hands shook as he touched her shoulder, but there was no response. No warmth. No life.

Jayson froze at the bottom of the stairs, pale and trembling. “Oh my God. Oh my God…”

Andrew’s voice cracked, desperate. “Call someone! Call the police!”

The flashing red and blue lights painted the old house in harsh colors. Neighbors gathered at the gate, whispering, their faces pale in the glow.

Two officers moved briskly inside, their radios crackling. A third crouched by Danny’s body, his expression grim.

Andrew sat on the steps outside, head in his hands. His clothes were smeared with dust and blood from where he had tried, hopelessly, to lift her. Jayson sat beside him, silent tears streaking his cheeks.

Mrs. Olivia arrived in a rush, her black car screeching to a halt. She stepped out with perfect composure, not a hair out of place, though her face twisted in what seemed like shock. Mr. Olivia stumbled after her, his tie loose, his expression hollow.

“What happened?” his voice boomed, though it wavered at the edges. “Where is she? Where’s my daughter?”

The officer held up a hand, blocking him from rushing inside. “Sir, I’m sorry. She’s gone.”

The words seemed to drain the air from the night. Mr. Olivia staggered back, clutching his chest. Mrs. Olivia slipped an arm around him, her face pressed into his shoulder—but her eyes, cold and gleaming in the police lights, never once looked at Danny’s body.

Andrew lifted his head, watching. Something about it chilled him more than the death itself.

The lead officer turned to him and Jayson. “We’re going to need statements. Everything you saw, everything you heard.”

Andrew swallowed hard, his throat raw. He wanted to tell them it was an accident, the stairs gave way. But another thought gnawed at him, darker and sharper: it hadn’t felt like an accident. Danny had been pushed by something more than rotten wood.

And deep down, though he couldn’t prove it yet, he knew someone had wanted her dead.