Elmwood

 Five teenagers, all eager to prove that urban legends were nothing but myths, sat huddled together in a dimly lit basement. They’d spent weeks researching local ghost stories and myths, and the one that intrigued them most was the tale of Elmwood High School—the long-abandoned institution on the edge of town. The legend said that every year, on the anniversary of its closing, the spirits of former students would return, and anyone caught in the building after dark would never be seen again.

“Let’s put this to rest,” Ryan said, slamming his hand down on the table. “It’s just a story to scare people. We’ll prove it’s all fake.”

His friends, Alex, Emma, Lisa, and Derek, nodded in agreement, each of them eager for the thrill of the challenge. They’d planned to meet at midnight, armed with flashlights and their phones to record their experience. No one believed in the supernatural anymore, and they were determined to be the ones to debunk the story of Elmwood High once and for all.

The school loomed before them like a dark, silent giant as they approached. The iron gates were rusted, and the broken windows looked like hollow eyes staring into the night. The air was cold, unnaturally so, and the distant sound of the wind creaked through the trees.

“You ready for this?” Ryan asked, his voice wavering slightly.

Emma rolled her eyes. “It’s just an old building, guys. No ghosts. Let’s get this over with.”

With a laugh, they made their way inside through a gap in the chain-link fence. The door was already ajar, as though inviting them in. The moment they crossed the threshold, a shiver ran down their spines, but none of them dared to show fear.

The inside of Elmwood High was a forgotten nightmare. Dust lay thick on the floors, and the walls were stained with time. Faded lockers lined the hallways, some broken open, their contents scattered across the floor. The building felt hollow, as though it had been waiting for something—or someone.

“Alright, here’s the plan,” Ryan said, “We’ll play a game of hide and seek. The rules are simple: one person hides, the others seek. If the legend’s true, we’ll hear something or see something, right?”

“And if we don’t,” Alex added with a grin, “we’ll prove it’s all made up and get the hell outta here.”

With a reluctant nod, the group agreed. They decided that Ryan would be the first to seek, as he was the most skeptical. The others spread out, hiding in various rooms of the decaying school.

Ryan closed his eyes and began to count, his voice echoing eerily through the halls. “One… two… three…”

As the others slipped into the darkness of their hiding places, the air seemed to grow colder, and a strange unease filled the space. Derek, hiding in a broken classroom, shivered as a draft swept through the room. He pulled his jacket tighter around himself and tried to calm his nerves, telling himself it was just the wind.

Meanwhile, Emma hid in the old gymnasium, her flashlight trembling in her hand. She glanced nervously at the tall windows, their glass shattered long ago, letting in the moonlight. As she crouched behind a bleacher, she heard something faint—a soft shuffle, like footsteps moving through the halls.

“No one’s supposed to be here,” she whispered to herself. “It’s nothing. Just the wind…”

But the footsteps continued, getting closer.

“Ryan?” she called out, but no answer came.

From the other side of the school, Alex, hiding in the darkened science lab, felt the hair on the back of his neck stand up. A low moan echoed from somewhere deep in the building, a hollow sound that made his heart race.

“Okay, now I’m done,” he muttered under his breath. “This is just… too creepy.”

In the halls, Derek thought he saw something out of the corner of his eye—a shadow, darting between the lockers. He blinked, but it was gone. He laughed nervously, but his breath hitched as he heard a whisper in the distance, too faint to make out. His feet suddenly felt heavy, as if the ground itself was trying to hold him in place.

Ryan reached ten and opened his eyes. “Ready or not, here I come!” he called, and immediately, the silence of the school seemed to intensify.

He made his way down the hallway, his flashlight flickering slightly, casting long, twisting shadows. As he approached the gym, he saw Emma’s flashlight beam moving erratically, her body frozen in place.

“What’s wrong?” Ryan asked, rushing toward her.

Emma’s voice trembled as she pointed toward the corner of the gym. “I… I heard footsteps. And then… that whispering. It’s like someone’s talking in a language I don’t understand.”

Ryan’s eyes darted around the room, but he saw nothing. “It’s just the wind,” he said, trying to sound confident.

But before he could finish his sentence, the gym’s door slammed shut with a deafening bang. The sound echoed through the building, and the temperature dropped suddenly, their breath visible in the cold air.

“Did you hear that?” Emma whispered, her eyes wide with terror.

The whispering grew louder now, circling them, as if it was coming from all directions at once. They ran to the door, but it wouldn’t budge. They were trapped.

Suddenly, the lights flickered, and for a brief moment, the school seemed to come alive. Shadows twisted into monstrous shapes, and the air grew thick with a sense of impending doom.

The whispers turned to words.

“You shouldn’t have come here. You’ve awakened them.”

The group bolted, scrambling through the school in blind panic. They couldn’t find each other in the darkness. Doors slammed open and shut, and every corner seemed to conceal something watching, waiting.

In the hallway, Derek tripped over a broken tile and fell to the floor. As he looked up, he saw a figure—pale, with hollow eyes and tattered clothes—standing at the end of the hallway, watching him. His scream echoed through the empty school, but no one came to help.

One by one, the friends were picked off by the unseen forces of Elmwood High. Each felt a cold hand on their shoulder, a voice whispering their names, before they vanished into the shadows.

When morning came, the school was quiet again. The doors were locked, and no trace of the five teenagers remained.

But the legend of Elmwood High was far from over.

Those who dared speak of it would always be warned: “Some things are better left alone. Some curses are meant to stay buried.”