The Manor of Hell

The night was engulfed in a brewing storm, as the daunting house shrouded in darkness. A whirlwind of flickering blue and red lights cast eerie silhouettes within, dancing through the wide-open front door. In the distance, thunder rumbled, and the footsteps ascending the porch steps caught the attention of a man with a buzz cut. He was dressed in a sharp black suit, and he stood by the door, swiftly turning his head at the sound of his name.

“Detective Saar, you need to see this,” a middle-aged police officer urgently informed him. Detective Saar spun around, the eerie glow casting shadows across his tense face as he locked eyes with the officer's frightened gaze. The officer extended a trembling hand, holding out a camera, his breath unsteady. A camera that was found deep in the foreboding woods harboring an ominous secret. Detective Saar approached, exuding authority as he donned a pair of black gloves and retrieved the camera.

“This belongs to one of the crew members,” Detective Saar said with a hushed tone, handling the camera delicately as if it were made of glass. He examined it meticulously, noting a speck of dried blood and a layer of dust on the lens. With a practiced hand, he promptly wiped the lens clean, revealing its cracked surface. Upon closer inspection, the camera's base bore a few dents, hinting at the ordeal it had been through.

"We found it near the old cabin after we'd retrieved the body. It was buried under some leaves as if someone was trying to hide it."

Detective Saar's jaw tightened, and he nodded, his expression growing even more somber. "Anything else?"

"Nothing else that we could find," the officer replied quietly.

Detective Saar acknowledged the officer's response with a nod, who stared at him wide-eyed like a frightened child. The officer understood he was dismissed and joined the others and the forensics team bustling around the house.

Detective Saar fumbled with the buttons, eventually finding the power button. A violet-blue screen flickered to life, displaying black and white text. With another press of a button, he accessed a video recording that spanned an hour. He cast a quick glance outside the premises, a brief moment of hesitation crossing his mind before he pressed play.

As the video began to play, Detective Saar watched in chilling silence. It revealed the now-deceased men approaching the porch steps, sending a shiver down his spine. Their lifeless bodies had just been discovered on the infamous plantation grounds, and this recording held a promising revelation, poised to unveil the sinister truth hidden within the accursed walls. Detective Saar’s gaze appeared to penetrate through the camera as if he were right there with them, immersed in the unsettling mystery.

***

Twenty-three hours earlier



The moon hung low in the cloudy night sky, casting an eerie glow over the ancient plantation house. Its windows were shattered, and ivy had crept up the decaying walls. The once-grand estate had long been abandoned, yet its haunting memory endured. The tales of the serial killings that had occurred here were only spoken of in hushed whispers among the townspeople, who lived in constant fear. This family, who had resided here for generations, had rumors of their mysterious disappearance circulated. Some believed they had vanished without a trace, while others caught wind of a witness who claimed to have seen a mysterious group conducting a ritual inside the manor, attempting to summon the departed. However, nothing had been confirmed as the truth, given that anyone who dared enter this house never returned. All that remained was their haunting legacy—the Wellington Plantation.

In the foreboding darkness, three figures cautiously made their way toward the mansion. They were seasoned paranormal investigators, armed with cameras, EVP recorders, and various ghost-hunting equipment. Charlie, the lead investigator, was a tall, rugged man with a braided beard and a skeptical demeanor. He often boasted of having seen it all— or so he claims. David, the tech expert, was an eccentric, bald man with a nervous disposition. And then there was Tommy, the cameraman, renowned for his nerves of steel and unwavering commitment to capturing every chilling moment on film, regardless of the consequences.

Their mission was clear: to uncover the hidden truth and gather evidence regarding the fate of the missing family members and their vanished victims. Armed with their equipment and their own courage, Charlie took the lead as they ascended up the steps of the doorway, the oppressive gloom playing tricks on their nerves, causing the hairs on their necks to stand on end. “Stay close,” he cautioned, his voice quivering slightly, setting their nerves on edge as they delved deeper into the haunting dwelling. The investigators stepped through the creaking front door, their footsteps echoing in the empty foyer. The silence hung heavy with an unsettling stillness, broken only by the distant howling of the wind. They embarked further into a dark hall, and the feeling of the impending doom loomed. The air grew hefty with a musky odor, and the walls seemed to absorb the sounds of their every movement. A depth of dullness was almost shuttering to live through as the night was justifying its horror. No bleak light except Tommy’s camera and their flashlights.

“Ah, hell, this place is already giving me the creeps,” David muttered as they turned down another dark, desolate hallway.

“Nah, we’ve seen worse and dealt with much worse,” Charlie replied casually, following Tommy’s camera light beaming ahead.

“Tommy, come closer. I can’t see a damn thing with this flashlight,” Charlie grumbled in annoyance.

“Well, we should explore the grounds first and then we work our way up,” Tommy suggested as Charlie paused and turned to face them, a contemplative expression on his face.

“Yeah, maybe you’re right,” Charlie agreed.

“Hey, remember that story about the basement?” Charlie added.

“Yeah,” David replied.

“Dante mentioned it might be some sort of portal for them down there,” Charlie recalled, thinking back to Dante’s words, who was the historian of the Wellington Estate and had guided them through the floor plan back at the lodge they were staying at. Dante was very adamant about hearing a phone call when they would finish their investigation. They found it odd that he refused to enter the premises himself, claiming he wasn’t as foolish as the others. Somehow, that cryptic remark had gone over their heads.

“Hell no, man. I’d rather tour the house on my own than go down there,” David said in a solemn tone, prompting a chuckle from Charlie and Tommy.

"Remember the last time we dealt with that sort of stuff? It took us months to find an exorcist," David's voice took on a smaller, almost embarrassed tone.

"Ha, but we did manage to get that demon out, didn't we?" Charlie quipped humorously.

"Yeah, whatever," David added lastly.

“Suit yourself,” Charlie conceded. David muttered a bitter remark as they continued exploring the main floor.

They began their investigation, posing questions to the void air and documenting any potential signs of paranormal activity. “Now remember what Dante had warned us about, – stay vigilant for any drafts we might encounter. There’s a malevolent spirit dwelling in this house,” Charlie emphasized to the camera. “David, please activate your recorder,” Charlie instructed.

As they ventured deeper into the house, they stumbled upon old photographs—frozen moments capturing their once-normal lives. Among them, a family portrait stood out, featuring a mother, a father, a young boy, and a small girl. The photo appeared aged, likely taken many years ago before their inhuman history. Their thoughts now gravitated toward the young girl and her older brother; the very ones who had been entangled in the gruesome series of killings. Despite the smiles frozen in time, these once-innocent expressions now seemed hauntingly sinister.

Charlie’s voice stayed steady as he spoke into the recorder, while Tommy filmed his every move. “We are now in the living room, attempting to make contact with any lingering spirits. If there’s anyone here, we kindly ask that you give us a sign.”

Silence hung heavy in the air until David whispered, “Did you hear that?”

The faintest sound of footsteps echoed down the hallway, but when they turned to investigate, there was nothing amiss. Charlie exchanged a skeptical glance with Tommy, who kept his camera rolling, capturing every moment.

“Let’s head down over here.” Charlie guided as he maneuvered down a doorway.

“We need to split up,” Charlie decided. “David, you take the rest of the floor. Tommy, follow me to the basement. Let’s see if we can find any clues down there.”

David hesitated but eventually nodded, disappearing inside a room. Tommy and Charlie, with their lights casting eerie shadows on the stone walls, made their way to the entrance of the basement.

As they descended the creaking stairs, the temperature seemed to plummet, and the atmosphere grew increasingly unsettling. Tommy’s camera projected a beam of light, revealing a foreboding dark tunnel on the wall.

"Woah," Charlie whispered in astonishment.

"What the..." Tommy's mouth hung open in surprise.

Charlie emitted a hoarse, almost shocked laugh as he slowly advanced towards the tunnel. Tommy, still in place, continued to record Charlie's exploration in the tunnel and turned to face him.

"Come on," Charlie urged impatiently.

"Charlie, we don't know what's in there. Dante never mentioned this," Tommy protested.

"Dante has never set foot inside. We are the ones discovering this place. Not him," Charlie responded firmly.

Tommy hesitated, his gaze shifting between Charlie and the ominous entrance to the tunnel.

"Tommy?" Charlie said with a serious tone.

"O-okay," Tommy reluctantly agreed, creeping slowly behind him.

Charlie led the way, but as they ventured deeper into the basement, the tunnel seemed to twist and turn, disorienting them. Panic began to creep into Tommy’s voice as he muttered, “Charlie, should we even be going this way?”

"Come on, you're feeling uneasy already?" Charlie teased as he turned to walk backward, facing Tommy.

"Yeah, I am, because there was nothing mentioned about this otherworldly dark tunnel being down here, in the freaking basement."

"Yeah, but remember, no one's ever made it out alive to tell their stories," Charlie emphasized, gesturing his arms in the air as if it was some coveted prize.

“We should have not left David,” Tommy paused in distress, feeling a surge of his fight-or-flight response gripping him as if his gut was telling him to turn back.

Tommy pointed the camera behind Charlie’s head, revealing a doomy presence looming there. “No, seriously, man, we should head back. We shouldn’t be here,” Tommy pleaded in a serious tone.

Charlie’s confident facade wavered, and confusion washed over him. “Damn, Tommy, you’re never scared,” he began to say something, but before he could respond, they heard the sound of David’s voice echoing from behind them, calling them back into the basement. Tommy turned, his camera capturing the dark tunnel behind them.

“What the hell?” Charlie protested confusingly.

“See, we should leave,” Tommy insisted. Charlie’s facade grew increasingly concerned as he reluctantly agreed and followed David's voice. Suddenly, a flurry of footsteps sprinted from behind them, causing them to instinctively turn around.

Both of them listened intently, their faces etched with confusion, when suddenly, a terrifying gust of wind, carrying an ominous premonition, surged between them, violently slamming them against the wall.

Tommy who was crouched down to the ground gasped with a shivering breath.

"Charlie?" Tommy grabbed his camera, pushing himself upright as he hurried to the other side of the wall, but Charlie was nowhere in sight.

“Charlie where are you?” he shouted, his own voice echoing back at him. Panic filled his eyes as he started retracing their steps.

He continued stalking forward down the tunnel until he stumbled upon something chilling. Charlie’s shoes lay discarded on the cold, damp ground. Tommy’s heart raced as he realized that Charlie was still nowhere to be found. “Charlie?” he called out once more.

Suddenly, a blood-curdling scream, unmistakably David’s, pierced the air from the other side of the tunnel. Panic surged through Tommy, and he hesitated only momentarily before sprinting through the tunnel. He charged further until he reached the end, where he saw a dark wooden door ahead.

In the room beyond, Tommy’s breath caught in his throat, and a cold wave of dread washed over him as he took in the gruesome sight. Charlie’s lifeless body hung from the ceiling, and the room seemed to close in on Tommy. His hand, still clutching the camera, dropped to the floor as confusion consumed his mind. His breath quivered against his teeth, leaving him unable to speak. Shock held his muscles in an icy grip, and desperate to escape the horrifying scene, he turned to flee.

Trembling, Tommy picked up his camera and numbly continued to record, desperately seeking any evidence to make sense of this surreal nightmare. He darted through the tunnel, eventually finding himself in a dark abyss. He paused to catch his breath and cried out in anguish. As Tommy’s camera panned upward, it captured a chilling sight—a dark shadow lurking just behind him. It was a shapeless, malevolent presence that seemed to feed on his fear. Heavy, labored breathing filled his ears, coming from all directions, closing in on him.

Tommy forced his shaking legs to sprint forward. The narrow tunnel seemed to stretch on endlessly, a never-ending nightmare he was trying to escape. Finally, he emerged into what appeared to be the headquarters of the basement, illuminated by a sinister red light emanating from the stairs leading up.

Calling out for David, Tommy cautiously climbed the stairs, each creak echoing ominously in the silent dark. Suddenly, a chair was violently hurled down the hall, crashing into a wall just inches from Tommy. He froze for a moment, his heart pounding, before summoning the courage to continue.

The house seemed to have transformed during their investigation, almost as if a time-lapse played tricks on their perception. Cobwebs stretched from wall to wall, and the once-grand halls were now shrouded in darkness. Tommy followed the eerie red light, his breath visible in the frigid air.

In the living room, he saw a shadowy figure. It appeared to be David; his silhouette turned away from Tommy as he stared at the wall. Tommy called out to him frantically, “David! David, what’s going on? Are you okay?”

Slowly, David turned to face Tommy, but something was terribly wrong. There were no eyes in those hollow sockets, just endless darkness. Tommy’s body felt weightless as he took a step back, his camera trembling in his hands.

He stumbled and fell onto his backside in sheer terror, unable to tear his gaze away from David's eyeless stare. In a split second, he watched as David's neck snapped, and his lifeless body crumpled to the ground. Tommy's eyes snapped back into reality as if his instinctual flight response had taken over. In a trance-like state, Tommy got up and sprinted out of the house, his mind struggling to comprehend the horrifying scene he had just witnessed.

The malevolent shadow continued to pursue him, drawing nearer with relentless aggression.

Tommy sprinted through the overgrown yard and plunged into the dense woods beyond, his heart pounding with desperation as he tried to escape its grasp.

His breath came in ragged gasps as he finally stopped in the middle of the woods, his heart pounding in his chest. He scanned his surroundings, desperately searching for a way out. That’s when he spotted it—an abandoned cabin up ahead.

With no other options, Tommy climbed the porch steps and shined his flashlight on the decrepit structure. It was as if the cabin had been forgotten by time itself, with windows boarded up and a porch sagging under the weight of neglect.

Tommy hesitated but knew he had to seek refuge inside. He slowly crept around to find an entrance, constantly checking over his shoulder for the malevolent shadow that had pursued him. As he approached the back of the cabin, he suddenly noticed it—a haunting, dark presence lurking in the corner of his vision.

A chill ran down Tommy’s spine as he turned to face the evil facade, his camera in his trembling hands. The darkness seemed to come alive, swirling and coalescing into a grotesque form. Tommy could feel himself being drawn towards it as if some unseen force compelled him to follow it.

Tears streamed down Tommy’s face as he fought against the malevolent pull, but he was powerless to resist. The sinister presence had vanished when he reluctantly stepped down from the porch, and a sudden gust of air brushed over his head. He looked up and was horrified to see the malevolent entity transformed into a grotesque, scarred face—a nightmarish creature, its eerie grin fixed on him with a piercing stare.

Tommy’s cries of fear and despair were swallowed by the night as he was violently thrust into the air, crashing down to the ground with a sickening thud, the sound of bones cracking filling the air. The forest became deathly silent as the evil malevolent spirit swayed away.

Back at the haunted estate, the legends of the missing family and the sinister spirits continued to grow. The paranormal investigators had become another chapter in the house’s dark history, their fates sealed within its decaying walls. The mansion would remain abandoned, a place where the living soul dared not tread, and where the dead held their eternal, malevolent sway.

As the first light of dawn broke over the forest, the old plantation estate stood in eerie silence. It seemed to absorb the secrets of the night, guarding them with a malevolent vigilance that would persist for years to come. The investigators had ventured into the forbidden abyss, and the house had claimed them as its own, forever entwining their fates with its dark and haunted history.