Chapter 5 - Whispers in the Snow
Liam bolted out of the historical archives and threw himself into his car.
The wind had picked up, turning the road into a blinding wall of white dust. He slammed his foot on the accelerator, driving toward the northern shore of Walloon Lake, where Gwen’s sprawling timber estate sat isolated among the tall pines.
As his sedan bounced along the unpaved lake road, the car's radio suddenly cracked to life with sharp static.
BZZZZT... Liam... BZZZZT...
Liam flinched, reaching out to adjust the dial. "Hello? Is someone there?"
Through the harsh white noise, a voice emerged. It wasn't the radio broadcast. It was Nora's voice, soft, trembling, and dripping with an unnatural, shivering chill.
"It's so cold out here, Liam... Why didn't you open the door?"
"Nora!" Liam screamed into the empty car, tears pouring down his freezing cheeks. "Nora, where are you?! I'm sorry! I'm so sorry! Please, where are you?!"
"Gwen lied to you... she locked the cellar door twenty years ago, Liam... and she's going to lock it again..."
The static exploded into a deafening shriek, and the radio screen flickered black. At the exact same second, a dark shape darted across the snow-covered road right in front of his headlights.
Liam slammed his foot on the brake. The sedan fishtailed violently across the black ice, spinning twice before crashing hard into a snowbank beside a rusted metal gate.
The engine sputtered and died. Smoke curled from beneath the hood.
Liam pushed his door open, coughing, and stumbled out into the knee-deep snow.
In front of him stood the rusted iron gates of his childhood home—the old Vance estate on the edge of the frozen lake. Beyond the gate, nestled down a long winding driveway, stood Gwen’s massive two-story house.
The house was completely dark, save for a single amber light flickering from the basement window near the foundation.
Liam trudged through the deep snow, his legs numb, his heart hammering against his ribs.
As he approached the porch, he noticed something horrifying.
Leading from the frozen shore of Walloon Lake, across the snowy lawn, and straight up the wooden steps of Gwen’s porch was a wide, smooth trail in the snow—as if something wet and heavy had been dragged from the water directly into the house.
The front door was wide open, swinging gently in the howling wind. CREEEAK. SLAM. CREEEAK.
Liam stepped onto the wooden porch. "Gwen?" he called out, his voice shaking uncontrollably. "Gwen, are you in here?"
He stepped inside. The foyer was pitch black. The smell of burning wood mixed with the sharp, sickening stench of rot and lake algae filled his nose.
From down below, through the open floorboards leading to the cellar, came the sound of a woman screaming.
It wasn't Nora.
It was Gwen, shrieked in absolute, mindless terror.
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"Get away from me!" Gwen's voice echoed from the basement depths. "You died in the fire! You drowned! Get off me!"
Liam reached into his pocket, pulled out his phone, turned on the flashlight beam, and sprinted toward the open cellar door at the end of the dark hallway.
