The night had settled over Blackvale Orphanage like a thick, suffocating blanket. The old building hummed with distant creaks, as if the walls themselves were whispering secrets long forgotten. Aiden lay awake on his narrow bed, staring at the cracked ceiling. Sleep refused to come—his mind replayed the voice he had heard the night before. That strange, cold whisper calling from the hallway.
He sat up suddenly.
There it was again.
A faint echo… almost like a child humming.
Aiden rubbed his arms, trying to chase away the chill crawling up his skin. "Probably just the wind," he muttered, though even he didn't believe that.
Curiosity tugged at him until he couldn't ignore it anymore. He slipped out of bed, careful not to wake the other children, and tiptoed toward the dim corridor. The lights flickered unevenly, casting long shadows that stretched and twisted across the walls.
As he stepped outside, the humming stopped.
Dead silence.
Aiden's heartbeat grew louder in his ears. He took a cautious step forward. Then another. The corridor felt colder than usual, like something unseen had just passed through moments before.
Halfway down the hallway, he noticed something odd—one of the doors was slightly open. Room 12. Nobody was assigned to that room. The staff always kept it locked.
Aiden swallowed hard.
He reached for the door.
Before he could push it open, a soft voice whispered right behind him:
"Aiden… don't go in."
He froze. The voice was definitely a child's—but no one was there. The air around him shifted, as if someone invisible had just brushed past.
His hands trembled, but instead of stepping back, he pushed the door open wider.
The room was empty.
Dusty.
Untouched.
But on the floor… something caught his eye.
Tiny footprints. Fresh. Leading toward the far corner of the room. Aiden slowly followed them when he noticed something even stranger: the footprints stopped abruptly. As if the child who made them had simply vanished into thin air.
A shiver crawled down his spine.
Then, a whisper escaped the darkness:
"Help me…"
Aiden stumbled back, his breath catching in his throat. The voice was desperate. Terrified. Pleading.
He turned to run—only to find that the door behind him had quietly swung shut.
And locked.
Aiden grabbed the handle and shook it frantically.
"Hello? Anyone there? Open the door!"
But the orphanage remained silent.
Until…
A small handprint appeared on the dusty mirror in front of him.
Slowly…
Deliberately…
As if someone invisible was pressing their palm against the glass from the other side.
Aiden stared, frozen in fear.
The handprint grew darker, wetter—like it had been dipped in something thick.
Blood.
Aiden stumbled back, unable to tear his eyes away from the mirror.
And then the reflection behind him shifted.
Something was standing there.
Not quite human.
A shadow with the shape of a child… but its head tilted unnaturally to the side, its body flickering like a candle flame struggling to stay alive.
The whisper returned—this time right beside his ear:
"Don't leave me alone again…"
Aiden screamed.
But only silence answered.
To be continued…