Secrets of the Haunted House

By Matt Philip

In Secrets of the Haunted House, Jay, Vicky, Mike, Nick, and Annie embark on a chilling adventure into the mysterious Parker House—a once-feared mansion rumored to be cursed.

Driven by curiosity, the friends uncover hidden rooms, cryptic messages, and the sorrowful spirit of Isabella Parker, trapped within the house's dark history. Through teamwork and bravery, they break the curse and uncover a century-old family tragedy, bringing peace to the restless spirits. But their journey doesn't end there.

Secrets of the Haunted House is a thrilling tale of friendship, courage, and the mysteries that linger in forgotten places.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Bright Minds Books
• Release date: Oct 26, 2024
• ISBN: 9798227831828

Book preview

Chapter 1: The Dare

It was a warm Saturday afternoon when the dare began, the kind of day where the sky seemed too blue and the sun too bright to suggest any hint of trouble. Jay, Vicky, Mike, Nick, and Annie sat in the shade of an old oak tree, the only shelter from the oppressive heat. The conversation had started innocently enough, with stories of school and plans for the summer, but it didn’t take long for the topic to shift to the Parker House.

Everyone in town knew about the Parker House. It stood on the outskirts, a crumbling, overgrown mansion that had long since lost its grandeur. Kids told stories of shadows moving in the windows and strange sounds echoing from its empty halls. Some said it was haunted by the ghost of its last owner, Sir Edmond Parker, while others believed something darker resided within.

I bet you won’t go inside, Mike teased, tossing a pebble at Jay’s foot. His challenge was met with skeptical looks.

I’ve heard that before, Vicky replied, rolling her eyes. No one’s ever actually gone in. It’s just talk.

Mike leaned forward, his eyes twinkling with mischief. How about we change that?

A brief silence fell over the group. They all knew what going into the Parker House meant—facing the rumors head-on. It wasn’t just about exploring a creepy old building; it was about confronting their deepest fears. Jay, sitting with his arms crossed, mulled over the idea. He wasn’t one to back down from a challenge, but the house’s reputation was enough to give him pause.

Nick, always eager to add his two cents, glanced at his phone. I mean, logically, there’s no such thing as ghosts, right? It’s just an abandoned house. But... what if the stories are true?

Annie, the youngest of the group, perked up. She had always been the curious one, more interested in finding out what was behind the rumors than avoiding them. I think we should do it. What’s the worst that could happen?

Famous last words, Jay muttered, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

Vicky stood, brushing the dirt from her jeans. I’m in. But if we’re doing this, we do it properly. We go tonight. No chickening out.

The rest of the group looked at each other, gauging who would be the first to object. When no one spoke up, Jay finally agreed. Fine. Tonight.

Night fell quicker than any of them had expected, and by the time they reached the edge of the woods where the Parker House loomed, the sky had darkened into a deep indigo. The towering structure rose ahead of them, its silhouette framed against the crescent moon. The once-grand pillars that supported the front porch were cracked, vines crawling up their sides like skeletal fingers. Windows, caked in dust, reflected nothing but shadows.

They hesitated at the front gate, which hung crookedly on its hinges. The gate creaked when Mike pushed it open, the sound echoing in the stillness.

Not too late to back out, Nick muttered, though there was a clear undertone of excitement in his voice.

No turning back now, Vicky said, pushing forward toward the front door. Her flashlight beam cut through the darkness, revealing the peeling paint and rusted doorknob.

Jay moved to the door, resting his hand on the handle. It was cold, far colder than it should have been. He gave it a gentle push, expecting resistance, but the door swung open easily, almost as though it had been waiting for them.

That’s not creepy at all, Mike whispered, his voice barely above a breath.

The group stepped inside cautiously, the wooden floor creaking beneath their weight. Dust motes swirled in the beams of their flashlights, and the air smelled of dampness and decay. The entryway was grand in a dilapidated sort of way—an old chandelier hung precariously from the ceiling, and a wide staircase wound up to the second floor.

For a moment, no one moved. Then Vicky cleared her throat. So, what now? We split up and search?

That’s how people get lost in horror movies, Jay pointed out. Let’s stick together.

They wandered deeper into the house, their footsteps muted on the thick layer of dust that coated the floor. Old portraits lined the walls, their subjects staring down at the intruders with cold, unblinking eyes. But it was the largest painting at the end of the hall that caught everyone’s attention.

It depicted a tall, stern man with sharp features and dark eyes. He was dressed in formal clothing, his hand resting on the back of an ornate chair. His expression was severe, almost angry, and as they stepped closer, it felt as though his gaze followed their every move.

That’s Sir Edmond Parker, Nick whispered, recognizing the face from old newspaper clippings they had read in school. The last owner of the house.

Jay took a step closer, examining the painting. The detail was remarkable, almost lifelike. Look at his eyes, he said slowly, pointing to the portrait. It feels like—

Like he’s watching us, Annie finished, her voice trembling slightly.

Suddenly, a low creak echoed through the hall. The group froze. It came from behind them. Jay turned, his flashlight illuminating the entryway they had just passed through. But there was nothing there. Just empty space.

Maybe it was just the wind, Mike offered, though he didn’t sound convinced.

There’s no wind in here, Vicky shot back, her brow furrowed.

Before anyone could respond, the front door slammed shut with a deafening bang, plunging the room into silence. For a moment, no one spoke. Jay’s pulse quickened, but he forced himself to stay calm.

Okay, we just need to figure this out. Maybe it was a draft, he suggested, though the explanation sounded flimsy.

Vicky wasn’t buying it. She pointed back at the painting. Look again.

The group turned back to the portrait of Sir Edmond Parker. His expression hadn’t changed, but the intensity of his gaze seemed to have deepened, the lines of his face etched even more harshly in the dim light. Annie reached out to touch the canvas, brushing aside the thick layer of dust. Her fingers froze midair as she noticed something odd.

Guys, she whispered, her voice barely audible. Look at this.

Jay stepped closer, squinting at the spot where Annie had wiped away the dust. Beneath the dirt, hidden in the corner of the frame, was a small engraving—a name. But it wasn’t Sir Edmond’s.

Isabella Parker, Jay read aloud, confusion creeping into his voice. Who’s that?

The others stared at the name, trying to make sense of it. Sir Edmond had never mentioned a daughter or wife by that name in the town’s history. This was the first hint of someone new, someone connected to the house in ways they hadn’t anticipated.

Vicky, now intrigued rather than scared, stepped back. We need to find out who she is.

Just as the words left her mouth, the candle on the hallway table flickered. Then, without warning, it snuffed out, plunging them into darkness once more.

Chapter 2: The Flickering Candle

The room fell into a thick, suffocating darkness. For a few heartbeats, no one moved or spoke, frozen by the sudden shift in their surroundings. The air felt colder, and the oppressive silence hung heavy