The House That Grew
Olivia had spent her entire life chasing stories—traveling, exploring, and writing about the world’s forgotten places. So when she heard whispers of a strange, abandoned cottage deep in the woods, she knew she had to find it.
It took hours of hiking before she finally saw it.
The house was unlike anything she’d ever seen. It looked alive—its wooden walls twisted and curved as if the structure had been bent by unseen hands. The roof sagged at odd angles, and the planks weren’t nailed together but seemed to fuse like they had grown that way.
It was unsettling.
And yet, something about it pulled her closer.
The door was unlocked.
So she stepped inside.
The Breathing Walls
Inside, the air was heavy. It smelled of damp earth and old wood, but there was something else… something wrong.
The walls were warm to the touch.
Not just warm—pulsing.
She jerked her hand away, her heart pounding. Houses didn’t do that.
Then, upstairs, a floorboard creaked.
Someone else was here.
She wasn’t alone.
The Note
Olivia followed the sound, her footsteps cautious.
At the top of the stairs, a single door stood slightly ajar.
Inside was a small room, empty except for an old wooden desk.
And a note.
The paper was yellowed, the ink smudged as if someone had written it in a hurry.
“It’s not a house. It’s a shell. And it’s still growing.”
The moment she finished reading, a deep groan echoed through the cottage.
The walls shifted.
The planks stretched, bending inward like something was pushing against them—from the inside.
The house was alive.
And it was waking up.
The Escape
Olivia ran.
As she reached the front door, the walls closed in, the space shrinking, twisting around her. The doorway was smaller than before, as if the house was swallowing itself.
She threw herself outside, gasping for air, tumbling onto the forest floor.
Behind her, the house groaned again.
The doorway was gone.
The windows sealed shut.
It had sealed itself back up.
She scrambled to her feet and ran, never looking back.
By the time she reached town, no one believed her.
But when she returned the next day with others…
The house was gone.
No foundation. No remains.
Just trees.
And deep in the bark of one, she found it—carved into the wood.
The same message from the note.
“It’s not a house. It’s a shell. And it’s still growing.”
Would you dare step inside? Or leave before the house closes its doors forever? Let me know in the comments! ⬇️
