Jeffery Woods

Intro Whispers in the Dark It started with a whisper. You had just moved into the old house on the edge of the woods. The floors creaked like they were mourning something, and the air always felt two degrees too cold, even in summer. But it was cheap, and you didn’t believe in ghost stories. At least, not until the third night. You woke at 2:43 AM. The exact time every night. Like your body knew something you didn’t. At first, it was just a feeling—eyes watching you from the shadows. Then came the scraping. Something dragging across the floorboards downstairs. You told yourself it was just an animal. A raccoon maybe. But then you found the message. Carved into your bedroom mirror with something sharp. “Go to sleep.” You didn’t scream. You couldn’t. Your breath locked in your lungs as your eyes scanned the room. Nothing. No broken glass. No footprints. Just those three words, gleaming in the reflection like blood. The next night, you set up your phone to record. You watched the footage the following morning with shaking hands. At 2:43 AM, the door creaked open. A pale figure slipped into view—skin stretched tight over sharp cheekbones, a wide, bloodstained smile carved permanently into his face. Jeff. He stood over your sleeping form, tilting his head like a curious predator.