Shayla ask ANTHONY dont go amber house

Shayla’s Warning: Don’t Go to Amber House

Shayla’s Warning: Don’t Go to Amber House

The autumn wind howled through the empty streets of Pinebrook, a small town nestled between endless stretches of farmland and dense woods. The once vibrant town had its fair share of legends, but none were as whispered about as Amber House.

A decaying mansion perched at the edge of the woods, Amber House had been abandoned for decades, its tall iron gates rusted, its windows shattered, and its history shrouded in darkness. Some said the house was cursed. Others claimed they heard voices whispering through the cracks in its wooden walls. No one dared to step inside—except for Anthony.

Anthony had always been the adventurous one in his friend group, the kind of guy who chased thrills and scoffed at superstition. But his best friend, Shayla, knew better.

“Anthony, don’t go,” Shayla said, gripping his wrist outside their high school. Her dark eyes reflected genuine fear. “I’m serious. Amber House isn’t just some creepy old building. People disappear there.”

Anthony chuckled, shaking her off playfully. “Come on, Shay. You don’t really believe those stories, do you?”

She folded her arms. “I do. And you should too.”

Their friend group had spent years daring each other to go near the house, but no one ever followed through. The last person who had gone inside—Eli Parker—was never seen again. Some said he ran away. Others believed the house took him.

But Anthony didn’t believe in ghost stories.

That night, the wind carried a chill, and the town lay eerily quiet as Anthony rode his bike toward Amber House. The full moon cast long shadows across the cracked pavement, and as he neared the iron gates, they groaned in the wind. He stopped, staring at the towering structure before him. It looked worse up close—its wooden panels rotted, the balcony railing barely holding on.

He hesitated for just a moment. Then, his phone buzzed.

Shayla: Anthony. Turn around. NOW.

He sighed and texted back. Relax. I’ll be fine.

He stuffed his phone in his pocket and climbed over the fence. The second his feet hit the ground, something changed. The air grew heavier, and the distant sound of the town seemed to vanish. It was just him and the house.

Anthony pushed forward, stepping onto the wooden porch. The door creaked open on its own.

He swallowed. “Okay… creepy.”

Inside, dust floated in the dim moonlight filtering through broken windows. The grand staircase stood at the center, its steps worn and cracked. Faded paintings lined the walls, their subjects staring blankly at him. The air smelled of mildew and something metallic—something… wrong.

As he moved deeper into the house, his phone vibrated again. He pulled it out.

Shayla: GET OUT OF THERE NOW. I’M NOT JOKING.

A cold whisper brushed against his ear.

“Leave.”

Anthony spun around, heart pounding. “Hello?”

Silence.

His breath came in shallow gasps as he took a step back. Then, something moved. At the top of the stairs, a figure stood—too tall, its limbs too long. It had no face, just a hollow void where its features should have been.

Anthony stumbled backward as the thing moved, its body jerking unnaturally with each step.

The door slammed shut behind him.

His phone buzzed wildly.

Shayla: ANTHONY, PLEASE. I KNOW WHAT HAPPENED TO ELI. THE HOUSE TOOK HIM. IT WANTS YOU TOO.

Anthony’s blood ran cold.

The thing was at the bottom of the stairs now.

It whispered his name.

“Anthony…”

He bolted.

He ran through the hallways, his footsteps pounding against the wooden floors. Every door he tried was locked. The walls seemed to shift, closing in. The whispering grew louder, surrounding him, consuming him.

Then—he saw it. A window, half-shattered, light shining through.

He lunged.

Glass shattered around him as he crashed onto the grass outside. Pain shot up his arm, but he didn’t stop running. He didn’t look back. He just ran.

When he finally reached the gate, Shayla was there, eyes wide, face pale.

“You saw it, didn’t you?” she whispered.

Anthony nodded, his whole body trembling.

“I told you,” she said, gripping his hand. “Amber House doesn’t just scare people. It keeps them.”

Behind them, in the shadows of the house, something moved. And this time, it was watching.