🦉WIse OWL CHRONICLES🦉

The day was gray and overcast as Zoey peered out of her window. A moving truck stood parked outside, and her eyes widened as she watched people carrying furniture into the creepy old house across the street. The house, with its dead tree in the front yard and crows circling above, resembled something out of the Addams Family. It had a peculiar charm to it, the kind that sent shivers down one’s spine. Zoey couldn’t fathom who would willingly move into such an eerie place, but her curiosity got the better of her.

“They must be desperate or broke to buy that place,” Zoey muttered to herself as she continued to observe the unfolding scene.

As she stared, a pale figure, almost translucent, floated out of the house, effortlessly carrying a couch. Zoey rubbed her eyes, convinced she was seeing things.

“I’m definitely hallucinating,” she murmured, shaking her head, but the ghostly apparition didn’t disappear.

With a mix of trepidation and fascination, Zoey decided to meet her new neighbors. She rummaged through her mother’s cookbook and settled on making chocolate chip cookies as a welcoming gesture. Holding the warm batch, she approached the Adams Family-esque house, feeling a chill run down her spine.

A hesitant knock echoed through the door, but no one answered. “Well, guess I’ll just leave these here,” Zoey mumbled, carefully placing the cookies by the door.

Later that day, she witnessed a hand reaching out to grab the cookies, and a sense of satisfaction washed over her. Maybe her baking skills could break through the eerie atmosphere surrounding the house. However, as night fell, Zoey heard a voice that sent shivers down her spine.

“Zoey, let me in. It’s freezing! Oh, and by the way… thanks for the cookies!” the voice echoed through the stillness of the night.

In the morning, Zoey recounted the strange incident to her mother, who dismissed it as a bad dream. Although comforted, Zoey couldn’t shake the feeling that something was amiss. As night fell again, the voice returned, and this time, Zoey mustered the courage to open her window.

The same pale, ghostly girl floated through, a chill following her. “My room is cold. May I sleep here tonight?” she asked, her tone innocent yet unsettling.

Reluctantly, Zoey agreed. “Yes,” she whispered, unease creeping into her mind.

In the guest room, Zoey tried to push aside her fears, but the ghost had other plans. “Tonight is the night we’ve all been waiting for,” she confided to unseen friends.

As the night wore on, and everyone but Zoey succumbed to sleep, the ghost’s friends emerged. Unbeknownst to Zoey, they stealthily stole her parents’ souls. Alone in her room, fear gripping her heart, Zoey heard the ghost’s voice again.

“Zoey, you seem like a nice girl. I hate to do this, but I need your soul. Hope you don’t mind,” the ghost intoned with an eerie politeness.

“I mind!” Zoey exclaimed, a surge of defiance coursing through her. “This 10-year-old wants to live the rest of her years!”

In a desperate bid to escape, Zoey ran faster than she ever had in her entire life. The ghost’s chilling laughter echoed behind her, getting closer and closer, until it caught up with her.