Chapter 7 Return To Black Hollow Road

Donald thought he had escaped. He thought severing the connection had freed him.

He was wrong.

The house still lived inside him. And it was calling him back.

---

A week after his terrifying encounter with his reflection, Donald received a chilling email.

"Hello, Mr. Albert,

I recently moved into a house on Black Hollow Road. Strange things are happening. Your book mentioned a house like mine. Please-can you help me?

-Smith jones"

Donald's blood ran cold.

The house wasn't gone.

It had simply found a new host.

---

Donald drove back to Black Hollow Road, dread clawing at his stomach.

When he arrived, he expected an abandoned lot ruined.

Instead-the house stood exactly as it had before.

Same rotting wood. Same black windows.

It was as if it had never burned, never collapsed.

Like time itself didn't apply to it.

Smith jones, a young artist, greeted Donald at the porch. He looked exhausted-dark circles under his eyes, hands trembling.

"The house... it whispers at night," Jones said. "I see people in the mirrors. And I hear footsteps upstairs-when I'm alone."

Donald swallowed hard.

He knew this story.

He had lived it.

---

As soon as Donald stepped inside, something changed.

A pressure in the air. The feeling of being watched.

The walls creaked, as if the house was sighing in relief.

Donald's scar-which had disappeared was suddenly back.

The house had never let him go.

It had only been waiting.

---

Jones led Donald to the basement, where he had found Melissa Blackwood's journal another one.

It contained new pages, written recently.

The handwriting?

Donald's.

Even though he had never been here.

"What does this mean?" Jones asked, fear in his voice.

Donald couldn't answer.

Because at that moment-

The basement door slammed shut.

And the lights went out.

---

Darkness swallowed them.

Then-whispers.

Dozens of voices.

Jones screamed as something dragged him into the shadows.

Donald reached for him, but an unseen force slammed him against the wall.

From the darkness, a familiar voice spoke.

"Welcome home, Donald."

It was Melissa Blackwood.

She stepped forward, her face no longer human-her eyes were hollow black voids, her skin shifting like shadows.

"The house chose you. And now, it's time for you to accept your place."

The walls began to close in, the house consuming itself, sealing them inside.

And Donald knew-

This time, there would be no escape.

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