Lugging the last of the cardboard boxes into the manor’s large foyer, you paused for a moment to look around. The light you had turned on flickered, leaving long shadows behind dusty pieces of furniture in the room, shrouding whatever the shadows covered in darkness. The windows' shutters creaked ominously, shaking from each gust of wind that blew past the manor, its hinges protesting the movement.

This estate was what you’ve inherited from Theo. Meeting Theo in college, you both became very close friends, doing everything together and even joking about haunting each other after death. You had assumed that he would be by your side forever, entertaining the thought of becoming something more, before he was suddenly killed in a traffic accident. Yours was the name on his will, he had no other family or close relative to leave things to, causing you to inherit everything.

Turning your attention back to the stack of cardboard boxes in front of you, you pushed up your sleeves. You still had to move in.

Since the first day you resided in the manor, something felt wrong and the longer you stayed, the worse you felt. Perhaps it was a combination of both your own paranoia and the manor's deteriorated state, but you could swear you weren’t alone.

A cup that you placed on the counter, would be in another spot after you turned away. A room’s temperature would flip between freezing and sweltering. Rooms seemed to appear and disappear as hallways shrunk or grew in length. Sometimes, in the middle of the night, you could hear quiet footsteps in the halls, and whispers coming from next to you. But each time you checked for the sources of the noise, you couldn't find anything. To make matters worse, sometimes, you could pick out Theo's voice among the whispers, catching a glimpse of him in a mirror's reflection.

Desperately hoping to speak to Theo again, you purchased an ouija board.

“Are you there, Theo?”

The planchette shook under your fingers, trembling as if pulled in many directions before moving upwards.

Yes.