Chapter 1: Whispers Beneath the Floorboards

The house was always too quiet.
Too perfect.
Too... rehearsed.

Eliot had turned 11 only a week ago, and that was when the strange dreams began. Dreams of shadows moving in hallways at midnight. Of doors that once led to storage rooms now opening to cold, dark basements. Of children crying… but no one else hearing them.

The home he lived in was large—almost mansion-like, isolated at the edge of a dense forest. A place where no mail came. No visitors knocked. And no birthdays were ever celebrated—except the 10th one.

That’s when things changed.

Eliot remembered the 10th birthday of Liam, a boy who lived in the room beside his. One morning, Liam simply wasn’t there. His bed was made. Clothes folded neatly. All gone. Mother had said, “He got adopted by a lovely family.” Eliot believed it.

Back then.

But now...
Now that he was older...
Now that he had a sister named June (9) and a little brother named Noah (6)... he began to question everything.

THAT NIGHT

Eliot lay awake in bed, the moonlight carving faint silver lines across the wooden floor. His mother’s footsteps echoed from the hallway—soft, slow... like she was gliding.

He heard her whisper.
To someone.
But there was no one else awake.

He crept to his door, opened it just a crack, and peeked through.

Mother was standing near the hatch to the basement. A man in a long coat handed her something wrapped in a leather pouch. She nodded, then said clearly, “June turns ten next month. Be ready.”

Eliot’s heart froze.

Eliot’s heart froze.
His sister.

He backed away, breath caught in his throat, and returned to bed, silently shutting the door.

That night, he didn’t sleep.

NEXT MORNING