The rain began before Amelia Rose reached the village.

It fell heavily against the windshield of her car, turning the narrow country road into a black river beneath the headlights. The trees on both sides of the road moved violently in the wind, their branches scratching against one another like long, dead fingers.

Amelia tightened her hands around the steering wheel.

She had not been back to Blackwood Village for seventeen years.

Not since she was eight years old.

Not since the night her grandmother had told her never to return.

Never come back to Blackwood House.

Those had been her grandmother’s final words before Amelia’s mother had taken her away.

Now, twenty-five years later, Amelia was returning.

Not because she wanted to.

Because her grandmother was dead.

The funeral had been three days ago.

Amelia had stayed away.

She couldn’t explain why.

Perhaps it was fear.

Perhaps it was guilt.

Or perhaps some part of her had always known that returning to Blackwood House would mean opening a door that should have remained closed.

The car’s headlights suddenly flickered.

Amelia frowned.

“Not now.”

The lights went out completely.

The road disappeared.

Amelia slammed on the brakes.

The car stopped.

For several seconds, she sat in complete darkness.

Rain hammered the roof.

The engine was still running, but the headlights refused to come back.

Amelia reached for her phone.

No signal.

Of course.

She looked through the windshield.

The road ahead was invisible.

Then she saw something.

A woman.

Standing in the middle of the road.

Amelia’s heart stopped.

The woman was wearing a long white dress.

Her hair covered her face.

She wasn’t moving.

Amelia stared.

“Hello?”

The woman slowly raised her head.

Amelia froze.

The woman’s face was pale.

Too pale.

Her eyes were completely black.

Amelia screamed.

She turned the key.

The engine roared.

The headlights came back on.

The road was empty.

The woman had disappeared.

Amelia’s breathing became fast.

She looked around.

Nothing.

Just rain.

She wanted to turn the car around.

But there was nowhere to turn.

So she drove.

Ten minutes later, she saw the gates.

BLACKWOOD ESTATE

The old iron gates stood open.

Amelia slowed down.

She hadn’t expected that.

The gates had always been locked.

She remembered them from childhood.

Tall.

Black.

Covered in rust.

Her grandmother had once told her that the gates were never to be opened after sunset.

Amelia looked at her watch.

11:47 PM.

She should have stayed at a hotel.

But the nearest town was thirty minutes away.

And the storm was getting worse.

She drove through the gates.

The moment the car crossed the boundary, the rain stopped.

Amelia looked at the windshield.

Nothing.

Not a single drop.

She looked behind her.

The road was still covered in rain.

But inside the estate—

the ground was completely dry.

Amelia’s stomach tightened.

She continued driving.

The house appeared between the trees.

Blackwood House.

It was exactly as she remembered.

Three floors.

Tall windows.

Stone walls.

A tower on the eastern side.

And a large wooden door beneath a broken balcony.

The house looked less like a home and more like something that had been waiting.

Waiting for her.

Amelia parked the car.

She didn’t immediately get out.

For some reason, she felt that someone was watching her.

She looked toward the second floor.

One of the windows was lit.

Amelia stared.

Her grandmother was dead.

There shouldn’t be anyone inside.

The light suddenly went off.

Amelia’s heart jumped.

She grabbed her bag and stepped out of the car.

The front door was already open.

She stopped.

“Hello?”

Her voice disappeared into the darkness.

No answer.

Amelia stepped inside.

The smell hit her immediately.

Dust.

Old wood.

And something else.

Something metallic.

Something that reminded her of blood.

She closed the door behind her.

The house was silent.

Too silent.

She remembered the hallway.

The staircase.

The old grandfather clock.

Everything was exactly where it had been.

Except for one thing.

A painting.

Amelia looked up.

A large portrait hung above the fireplace.

She recognized the woman immediately.

Isabella Blackwood.

Her grandmother’s older sister.

The woman who had supposedly disappeared twenty-five years ago.

Amelia had heard stories about her when she was a child.

Some said Isabella had run away.

Some said she had killed herself.

Others said she had gone insane.

But Amelia remembered something different.

She remembered asking her grandmother about Isabella.

And her grandmother had said:

“That woman never existed.”

Amelia stared at the portrait.

Isabella looked beautiful.

Young.

Pale.

Long black hair.

But there was something strange about her eyes.

Amelia stepped closer.

The portrait’s eyes seemed to follow her.

She shook her head.

“Just my imagination.”

She turned away.

A sound came from upstairs.

Footsteps.

Amelia stopped.

Someone was walking across the second floor.

Slowly.

Step.

Step.

Step.

Amelia looked toward the staircase.

“Hello?”

The footsteps stopped.

She waited.

Nothing.

Then—

another step.

Amelia’s heart began beating faster.

She grabbed her phone.

Still no signal.

She looked toward the front door.

She could leave.

She should leave.

But then she heard something.

A whisper.

From upstairs.

Her name.

“Amelia.”

She froze.

The voice was female.

Soft.

Broken.

Amelia slowly looked up.

“Who’s there?”

No answer.

Then the voice came again.

“Amelia…”

She climbed the stairs.

Every step creaked beneath her feet.

The hallway was dark.

At the end of it was her grandmother’s bedroom.

The door was slightly open.

Amelia pushed it.

The room was empty.

The bed was untouched.

The curtains moved in the cold wind.

Amelia stepped inside.

Something was lying on the bed.

A small black envelope.

Her name was written on it.

AMELIA ROSE

She picked it up.

Her hands were shaking.

Inside was a letter.

The handwriting was familiar.

Her grandmother’s.

Amelia unfolded it.

The message was short.

My dear Amelia,

If you are reading this, then I am already dead.

I know you will return to Blackwood House.

I tried to keep you away.

I failed.

There is something you must know.

Isabella did not disappear.

She was murdered.

And everyone who knows the truth is going to die.

You must find the room beneath the house.

Do not trust anyone.

Especially Daniel.

And whatever you do…

Do not answer when Isabella calls your name.

Amelia stared at the letter.

Daniel.

Her childhood friend.

Daniel Carter.

He was the only person in Blackwood Village she had trusted.

Her grandmother had warned her about him.

Why?

Suddenly—

the bedroom door slammed shut.

Amelia jumped.

She turned around.

The door was locked.

“Hello?”

She tried the handle.

Nothing.

Then she heard breathing.

Behind her.

Amelia slowly turned.

The room was empty.

Her eyes moved toward the mirror.

A woman was standing behind her.

Amelia screamed.

She spun around.

Nothing.

She looked back at the mirror.

The woman was still there.

Isabella.

Her pale face.

Her black eyes.

Blood running from her mouth.

Amelia couldn’t move.

The woman raised one hand.

She pointed toward the wall.

Amelia looked.

There was nothing.

Then the woman whispered:

“He buried me alive.”

Amelia’s blood turned cold.

“Who?”

The ghost looked directly at her.

“Your grandmother.”

The mirror cracked.

Amelia screamed.

The lights went out.

Something grabbed her ankle.

She fell.

The bedroom door suddenly opened.

Amelia crawled toward it.

Behind her, the woman in the mirror began laughing.

A horrible, broken laugh.

Amelia ran into the hallway.

The door slammed behind her.

She stood there, breathing heavily.

Then—

she heard a sound.

Someone was walking up the stairs.

Amelia looked down.

A man was standing at the bottom.

Daniel.

“Amelia?”

She froze.

“Daniel?”

He looked older than she remembered.

But it was definitely him.

He stared at her.

“Why are you here?”

“My grandmother died.”

“I know.”

“How?”

Daniel didn’t answer.

Amelia stepped down one stair.

“Did you know about the letter?”

Daniel’s expression changed.

“What letter?”

She held it up.

Daniel looked at it.

His face became pale.

“Where did you get that?”

“Her room.”

“Amelia, listen to me.”

“What?”

“You need to leave.”

“Why?”

“Now.”

A loud bang came from upstairs.

They both looked up.

Amelia’s bedroom door was open.

Something moved inside.

Daniel grabbed her hand.

“Run.”

They ran downstairs.

Amelia looked back.

A woman was standing at the top of the stairs.

Isabella.

She was staring at them.

But she wasn’t looking at Amelia.

She was looking at Daniel.

Her black eyes burned with hatred.

Daniel stopped.

The ghost whispered:

“You remember me.”

Daniel’s face went white.

Amelia looked at him.

“Daniel?”

The ghost took one step forward.

Daniel whispered:

“No.”

Isabella smiled.

“You were there.”

Amelia stared at Daniel.

“Where?”

Daniel grabbed her.

“We have to go.”

“Where were you?”

“Amelia!”

“Tell me!”

The ghost laughed.

Daniel pulled Amelia toward the front door.

But before they could reach it—

the door slammed shut.

Locked.

Daniel tried to open it.

Nothing.

Amelia looked behind them.

The staircase was empty.

Isabella was gone.

“Daniel.”

He didn’t answer.

“Daniel!”

He turned.

His face was terrified.

“Your grandmother didn’t write that letter.”

Amelia froze.

“What?”

Daniel pointed toward the envelope.

“Look at the handwriting.”

“What about it?”

“Your grandmother’s handwriting was different.”

Amelia stared.

“What are you saying?”

Daniel whispered:

“Someone else wrote it.”

Amelia looked at the letter.

The ink began to move.

The words slowly changed.

The original message disappeared.

New words appeared.

YOU CAME BACK.

Amelia dropped the letter.

Daniel stepped backward.

Another line appeared.

NOW WE CAN BEGIN.

The front door opened by itself.

Cold air rushed into the hallway.

And outside—

a woman was standing in the rain.

Isabella.

She slowly lifted her hand.

Pointing toward the forest behind the house.

Then Amelia heard a whisper.

Not from the ghost.

From inside the house.

A child’s voice.

“Amelia…”

She turned.

A little boy was standing at the top of the stairs.

His clothes were covered in blood.

His throat had been cut.

But he was smiling.

Daniel grabbed Amelia’s arm.

“Don’t look at him.”

“Who is he?”

Daniel whispered:

“The first person Isabella killed.”

The boy smiled wider.

Then he pointed toward the basement door.

“She’s waiting for you.”

The basement door slowly opened.

A terrible smell came from the darkness.

And from somewhere beneath the house—

Amelia heard a woman screaming.

“Help me!”

Amelia froze.

The voice sounded exactly like her grandmother.

Daniel grabbed her.

“Don’t go down there.”

But Amelia couldn’t move.

The voice screamed again.

“Amelia!”

She looked toward the basement.

The darkness seemed to be calling her.

Then Isabella appeared behind Daniel.

Her pale hand slowly moved toward his shoulder.

Amelia’s eyes widened.

“Daniel…”

He turned.

The ghost was standing inches behind him.

Isabella whispered:

“You were the first.”

Daniel screamed.

The lights exploded.

And the entire house went dark.

When Amelia opened her eyes—

Daniel was gone.

Only his blood-covered jacket remained on the floor.

And written across the wall in fresh blood were five words:

ONE DOWN. SIX MORE TO GO.

Amelia stared at the message.

Then a voice whispered directly beside her ear:

“Your family has seven sins.”

She turned.

No one was there.

The voice continued:

“I have seven victims.”

Amelia looked toward the dark basement.

And for the first time—

she realized that Isabella’s revenge had already begun.

TO BE CONTINUED…