The house had been whispering to us for weeks—light scratching, gentle rustling, and tiny, inexplicable thrills inside the walls. It began softly, like the sound of a wandering mouse or rusty pipes. However, the sounds continued coming back, always in the early hours before dawn, and always in the same location.
Initially, my spouse and I would joke around about “the ghosts of previous homeowners.” However, the longer it continued, the harder it was to ignore. The sounds were too intentional, too real.
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