Chapter 14: A Door Once Closed
The silence inside Blackwood Manor was deafening.
Claire and Samuel stood in front of the sealed door, their bodies still tense, waiting for something—anything—to happen. But the house remained still. The whispers had faded. The thing that had chased them was gone.
And Eleanor Blackwood… was finally at peace.
Claire exhaled a breath she hadn't realized she was holding. "It's over."
Samuel let out a short, shaky laugh. "God, I hope so." He ran a hand down his face, glancing around at the dimly lit hallway. "I don't know about you, but I'd really like to leave before anything else decides to wake up."
Claire nodded, but something inside her hesitated. The manor had been alive with secrets, its history twisted with unfinished rituals and restless spirits. They had sealed the door, locked away whatever had been lurking inside…
But was the house truly finished with them?
She turned back to the portrait of Eleanor, now faded and worn. The painting had once held a desperate warning. Now, it simply showed a woman who had been trapped for too long.
"Come on," Samuel urged, tugging at her sleeve. "Let's get out of here."
Claire let him pull her away. The manor felt different now—quieter, lighter somehow. The suffocating presence that had once lurked in every shadow was gone.
They made their way through the halls, stepping over broken furniture and thick layers of dust. The candlelight flickered as they passed, the old chandeliers swaying slightly from an unseen draft.
At last, they reached the grand staircase.
The front doors stood at the bottom, still locked and heavy, but this time—when Claire pressed her palm against the wood—she felt the change.
The resistance was gone.
She turned the handle.
The doors groaned open, revealing the pale light of early morning.
For the first time in what felt like hours—days—they stepped outside.
Fresh air filled Claire's lungs, cool and crisp against her skin. The weight on her chest lifted. The forest surrounding Blackwood Manor was eerily still, the mist hanging low over the ground.
Samuel exhaled a breath of relief. "Holy shit. We made it."
Claire looked back at the house, its towering form still looming against the dawn sky. The Blackwood name had lived here for centuries, carrying its secrets and curses.
Now, maybe… the manor could finally rest, too.
She reached into her pocket, fingers brushing against Eleanor's diary. She still had it. A piece of the past that had refused to be forgotten.
Her grip tightened.
They had locked the door. Sealed whatever had been inside. But the manor still existed. And as long as it stood, its story wasn't truly over.
Somewhere, deep within its walls…
Something was still waiting.
And Claire had a feeling she wasn't done with Blackwood Manor just yet.
To Be Continued…?