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imaginaryinkweaver · 8 months
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The Haunted Encounter
Oh my God! This can't be happening. I'm convinced it's all unfolding inside my head. For a moment, I was even scared of my own shadow. The whole event has made my blood run cold. What should I do? 
Allow me to introduce myself. I'm Oliver, a tour guide who's been working for an agency for the past five years. Typically, I work for three boring weeks, followed by a blissful seven-day break during which I move to the outskirts. These are the paid holidays which add to my happiness.
But this time, my plans didn’t go hand in hand with my expectations. I received a call from the company manager. 
Manager: "Hello, good morning, Oliver."
Oliver: "Good morning, sir. It's early; is there urgent work?" (Although I wasn't in the mood to take on any work, formalities did force me to ask.)
Manager: "Yes, actually, a group of friends has chosen our company for a trip to Columbus, New York, and Washington. Unfortunately, the assigned tour guide is down with a fever and cough. We need you to lead the task."
Oliver: "I understand, but my holidays have already begun, and I had plans."
Manager: "We will compensate you for your holidays. However, accomplishing this is necessary." 
(I knew my words wouldn't leave any imprint on his decision. Resignedly, I accepted. My days of relaxation were postponed.) The manager emailed me the contact details of the group members. I did my best not to focus on my thoughts but rather to prepare the itinerary for the group. 
Two days later, they arrived in New York. It was a group of friends, nearly my age. Guiding friends was far easier than guiding families. I counted, and there were nine of them, even though their provided data mentioned only eight. I asked, and they recounted, confirming there were nine. I was satisfied and I carried on. Then, I spotted her – a girl I thought I'd seen before. But it couldn't be possible; she was dead. My heart skipped a beat, and I closed my eyes, hoping it was a trick played by my unconscious mind. When I reopened them, she had disappeared. I told myself I was imagining things and continued attending to the group. They were here for an eight-day stay. Our hotel was near the airport. We checked in and headed towards the breakfast hall, where I asked for a table for nine.
It was late evening, and the hall was empty. Although I requested a table for nine, we sat at a table meant for ten. All ten seats were packed up. I tried to ignore this unusual event, focusing on the group. I noticed the girl again. Feeling uneasy, I excused myself from the table, reassuring them to meet them the next morning. That night was restless. Tiredness took over due to the strange events.
I took them sightseeing the following day to famous buildings, museums, and various attractions. They had a wonderful time, painting the town red. Their joys were on cloud nine which made my disappointment vanish. But I didn’t know it was just for a short period! 
On that very day, we travelled to another city. I had booked a ten-seater bus. The bus was full – eight group members, me, and the driver. At the time of exiting the bus at the next hotel, I counted, and there were nine members. My headache got worse the rest day, and I dropped the plan to recount. Back in my hotel room, I sensed some unease. Fatigue overtook unease, and I fell onto the bed. I woke around 2 AM to dim light. 
When I opened my eyes, I saw her – the girl who died in front of me. She was sitting by the desk, playing with a switch. It was horrifying. She was the girl who perished during her vacation here with friends two years ago. The hotel they stayed in suffered from a short circuit, and she had died. I became too selfish to save myself. She was pleading for help but I ignored her. As I opened my mouth to speak, I realised words failed me. She began the conversation, sharing how poor her last moments had been. "Are you here to take my life?" I asked. Her reply was quick: "Yes." I attempted to run, but my legs betrayed me, and I fainted. 
When I woke the next morning, a locket was in my hand. It was hers. Without any second thought, I called the manager, making it clear I wouldn't lead that tour. My voice was filled with fear and panic which convinced him to respect my decision. 
The haunted encounter had changed me forever.
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imaginaryinkweaver · 8 months
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The Haunted Manor
It was a lazy Sunday morning. The sky resembled a half-fried egg, with the Sun as the yolk and clouds as the fluffy white parts. The foliage was grown in the garden of a particular house. It was the house that had looked haunted years ago. Not a single person had lived in the house for the past ten years. The last resident was a young girl named Alice, who tragically died the day after moving in. Many illusive stories were fabricated, suggesting that the ghost of Alice still resides there. 
Years later, a young orphan named Mac, aged around 20 to 22, came to reside in the house. Everyone was shocked to see him living in that house. They tried their best to make him aware of this happening. But he was firm about living there. The first night he spent there was relaxing, but the next day, around 150 letters arrived in his name. Confusion and excitement filled him as he got confused about who could have sent them. His friends were on holiday in Australia.
In the first letter he opened, there was written,'' Death is coming to you soon.'' The letters formed the jumbled name 'ECILE.' Each and every letter was sealed with a death sign. It looked as if was written with dark blood. Panic jinxed him. After thinking so much, he dozed off on the sofa and dreamt of a girl with a beautiful smile and mischievous eyes.
After waking, he looked around in his room. Some voices beckoned, leading him to the kitchen where they faded away. There stood the same girl he had dreamt of. It was the very place where Alice had died years ago. It was the same spot from where her body had evaporated in front of the previous owner. Before Mac could ask something, the girl herself revealed that his time to die had come. Echoing voices infused in the house. None dared to enter. The dead body was thrown from the house. Could she be Alice? Were those footsteps leading to the house of death? No one dared to look inside. No stone remained unturned. It became a powerful institution that the house was having some paranormal issues. This mysterious happening became a horror episode. 
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imaginaryinkweaver · 9 months
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Silent Echoes: Norbert's Journey
Hey there! Allow me to introduce myself – I am Mr. Diary, though you can call me Norbert. Just a while back, well, a few years ago, I had the honour of being a close companion to Mr. Austin, a remarkable individual. Let's delve into my past and explore how my present days unfold.
This house became my home thanks to Mr Austin's sister, Amelia. She shared a special bond with him and understood that he was an introvert who kept his troubles, emotions, and even a barrage of questions locked within himself. The day I entered Austin's life marked a turning point. He secured a job in Switzerland, and I accompanied him on his journey. Throughout the day, I rested on the study table, while at night, he poured his feelings onto my pages.
About a week after his new job, a new colleague named Maria joined the team. Maria was a captivating woman, with eyes that gleamed like emeralds and flowing hair that cascaded around her. Austin fell deeply in love with her, but despite his efforts, he struggled to convey his feelings. One day, while seated at the study table, he was suddenly overwhelmed by the absence of Maria. Insecurity and melancholy enveloped him, and for a moment, it seemed as though something inside him had shattered. His emotions transformed into fear, etching its mark onto his face. In a rush, he grabbed a pen from the table, tore several pages from my binding, and handed them to Maria the following morning. This pivotal moment eventually led to a grand wedding at the palace. Sadly, it also marked the time when I lost my cherished and prestigious spot, being relegated to a mere shelf.
These events deeply affected me. The last emotion he inscribed on my pages was his love for Maria. I am privileged to have played a role in uniting two souls. Today, on the same date that I entered this house, I find myself feeling downcast and sorrowful. Not because I am no longer a prominent figure in this home or because Austin no longer writes within my pages. No, my sorrow stems from the fact that he now keeps himself closed off. He's stifled from within, but he no longer shares his triumphs and tribulations with anyone. He writes copiously on his laptop and phone, yet his mind and heart remain closed. He has accomplished much in his life, and he possesses all the material comforts he desired. However, the money he has amassed is but a simple piece of paper, devoid of genuine sentiment. Money may provide fleeting amusement, but it cannot guide us through the entirety of our lives...
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imaginaryinkweaver · 9 months
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Meet Me
I am Richa Maheshwari. An ordinary name with not-so-ordinary dreams. I have a thirst to prove myself. By the way, I am 15 years old. Living in Amritsar. I always have a soft spot for people who write stories, poems, and Blogs. I am open to opinions, ideas, And feedback!  I wish you love my writings and get attached to them. Please help me to get more finer. 
With Regards 
.
~RM(Richa Maheshwari)
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