The Bookworm

The old house stood at the forest's edge, abandoned for years. It loomed like a forgotten memory, shrouded in shadows. The villagers whispered about strange lights and unexplained noises, but no one dared to venture close—until tonight. The moon hung low, casting eerie patterns on the ground. The door creaked open with a mournful wail. The air was heavy with the scent of decay and something foul, like the stench of fear itself. Inside, the darkness was almost tangible, pressing in from all sides. The floorboards groaned underfoot, every step feeling wrong. Shadows danced in the corners, forming shapes that were not quite human. The temperature dropped suddenly, and a low hum began, barely perceptible at first but growing more insistent. It was a sound that crawled under the skin, making the hairs on the back of the neck stand on end. It seemed to come from everywhere and nowhere, a disembodied presence that filled the space. A slightly ajar door at the end of the hallway stood as a

  Derek moved to the small town seeking peace, a place where he could escape the weight of his past. He found solace in the simplicity of his new life and quickly fell into a routine. Every evening, after returning from work, he would take a walk in the nearby park—a quiet, serene place with towering trees and a small pond at its centre. One evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon and the shadows grew longer, Derek noticed something strange. A dense fog began to roll in, much thicker than usual, curling around the trees and the path ahead. The park, usually inviting, now seemed shrouded in an unsettling gloom. He hesitated but continued his walk, his footsteps echoing on the gravel path. As he approached the pond, he noticed a figure standing at the water's edge—a woman, her back turned to him. She was dressed in an old-fashioned gown, her long hair cascading down her back. "Hello?" Derek called out, his voice trembling slightly. The woman did not respond. Instead, s