Chapter 3 - The Midnight Echo
Sarah returned entirely alone to the massive, eerily quiet estate that dark night.
She poured herself a generous glass of expensive bourbon, desperately trying to calm her deeply frayed nerves.
The sprawling mansion undeniably felt different tonight, with long shadows stretching menacingly across the polished hardwood floors.
Around midnight, a violent thunderstorm rolled rapidly over the city, heavily rattling the thick glass windows.
Sarah was slowly drifting off to sleep when a distinct, mechanical hum suddenly drifted up the grand staircase.
It was a soft, rhythmic whirring sound that she recognized instantly and perfectly.
It was the exact, unmistakable sound of her husband’s motorized wheelchair moving across the ground floor.
Her blood ran completely cold.
She slowly crept out of her large bed, her bare feet making absolutely no sound on the thick bedroom carpet.
Grabbing a heavy brass candlestick from the bedside nightstand, she tiptoed carefully toward the dark hallway.
The mechanical whirring stopped abruptly, followed by the terrifying sound of a heavy, exhausted sigh.
"Who is down there?" she screamed loudly, her voice cracking with raw, unadulterated panic.
A blinding flash of lightning heavily illuminated the grand foyer below.
For a terrifying fraction of a second, she swore she saw the dark silhouette of a paralyzed man sitting in a chair at the bottom of the stairs.
May you like
Thunder violently shook the very foundations of the house, and the power suddenly cut out entirely.
Plunged into absolute darkness, Sarah dropped the heavy candlestick and blindly ran back into her locked bedroom.
