Chapter 4 - A Whisper in the Darkness

As Emily's investigation deepened, the encounters with the shadow figure became more frequent and unsettling. It seemed to communicate with her through eerie whispers that echoed in the darkness of the night. The whispers carried an unsettling message, hinting at secrets and forgotten memories from the past.

They made Emily shiver despite the warmth radiating off the fire that sat next to her.

Even without knowing how the shadows interacted with humans and spirits, Emily sensed that the presence of these entities somehow affected her and her family.

It caused them to lose control over themselves. That was definitely disturbing.

What she most dreaded, however, was discovering the source of these mysterious voices.

What frightened Emily most was the sound of desperation in her father's voice after each encounter with the figure. He begged them to stay silent. As if he were in desperate need of them to simply vanish.

Emily never understood her father's reluctance to reveal the secret. Perhaps her mother hadn't known about this side of her father either.

Or maybe she just didn't want to share the secrets of the past with her family either.

All Emily knew was that whatever the cause was, her family was suffering.

Emily's mind was full of questions as she searched relentlessly and continued to research everything possible within the confines of her journal. It was almost impossible not to ask her father anything about this because he seemed to know so much about the subject.

However, her father brushed her off whenever she tried to bring it up. He insisted that he'd rather not talk about it at all and refused to give up any details regarding the origins of the Estate or its history.

Emily wondered what could possibly have happened during that fateful day that left her grandmother so deeply wounded. But the old man claimed that there wasn't anything that could have caused that accident.

What could have possibly happened?

Did the voices get too much?

Did they possibly threaten him, that if he spoke a word about the accident something would happen?

Whatever had transpired that day remained lost to her grandmother.

Emily wondered if it would ever return to her family. She wished that it would. Because she desperately longed to understand the past.

To learn about what had happened before she was born.

To hear about her grandma's experience.

Everything she read only served to deepen her longing for a better understanding of her family. Everything she knew came with consequences.

And she didn't like what she was learning.

The truth terrified her.

She found herself thinking of her grandmother often. Of her gentle, caring nature and her endless patience and compassion.

Most particularly she remembered those last moments before the fatal accident, when her grandmother's eyes had locked on hers one final time, at the bottom stairwell, leading from the bedroom upstairs, before death claimed her.

Emily could almost see that woman's eyes staring back at her with an alarming sense of warning and despair. There was something that her grandmother wanted to convey. Something that she was begging her to understand.

Emily knew she must have learned something from her gaze.

She had hoped to discover something that might lead her to her father's hidden memories. Something that would explain everything that had gone wrong in their lives.

Something that would allow her to finally be rid of the fear, the anxiety, and the shame she had lived with for her whole life.

But there were no answers to be found here.

Nothing would provide her with the resolution to forgive her parents for all of the horrible things they had done to her and her sisters.

Nothing that would ease her guilt.

There were only more unanswered questions swirling in her head.

Emily had no idea what it was she'd learned, but it scared her senseless.

It had always felt as though everything went wrong.

And Emily wasn't naive enough to think that it would magically fix itself after some simple explanation.

There was just so much she wanted to know but couldn't understand, or even process.

"I'm sorry."

Emily blinked rapidly.

Her eyes refocused as she realized who was speaking.

Her heart skipped a beat and tears began to spill anew from her eyes.

A tall male figure stood in the middle of her room. His face was obscured by the dark fabric of his cloak and hood, and it appeared to be covered with bandages.

But she could see his hand resting on the doorknob of the door behind him.

He had been there since the beginning and no one, until now, had noticed.

He moved slowly in her direction, towards her, his hands extended outward before him.

In one swift movement, his cloak slipped off his shoulders, revealing his true form for all to see.

A ghost.

A specter, a spirit, a phantom haunting her home.

His ghostly pale face stared directly at her with an unsettling intensity.

He held his body stiffly and he appeared to be trying to hide something behind his back.

Or perhaps his arms were wrapped around himself.

"I'm sorry."

He spoke again in a gravelly whisper, although his voice sounded familiar. Emily could swear she had heard it before but she couldn't place where or when exactly.

"Why?" Emily cried, jumping from the chair and stumbling back a few steps in surprise.

This ghost looked just as haunted as she did after witnessing the incident.

He had no face, not anymore. No nose, mouth, or chin.

Not anymore.

Only a gaping hole where a face should have been.

"You're dead," she whispered to him. Tears were streaming down her cheeks as she stumbled backward another couple of steps and turned to run. She had to get out of there.

Away from him.

Away from this ghost.

Away from...everything.

The ghost didn't pursue her, instead, he just stood there and watched her. As if waiting for her to stop running and turn around to face him.

She didn't.

She kept running. Her feet pounding on the wooden floors in front of her and she could feel her heartbeat racing in her head as she pushed herself faster.

She needed space from him. And she needed to get out of here!

But the ghost followed her and soon she realized that there wasn't enough distance between them.

He followed her like a predator stalking its prey, ready to strike its prey down.

He had his hands clasped together, his index finger extended. He held it high above her head, while the tip rested at his chest.

Then, slowly, the tip lowered and started to descend toward Emily. She could hear the clink as the tips of his fingers gently touched each other. His ghostly eyes stared straight into hers.

His expression was one of absolute grief and regret.

Emily stopped running and turned around to face him. His eyes glowed with sadness and sorrow.

Emily took a step closer and reached her arms towards him in an attempt to calm him.

"It's ok.

It's ok."

But he only continued moving forward. Emily closed her eyes briefly, taking a breath. Anticipating, anticipating the tension of action, nothing but the cold could be felt, nothing but the freezing breeze and a slight push.

That slight push was more than enough for the close instance of the stairs behind her.