supernatural · horror · ghost · ouija board · pale · anxious · gothic · psychological thriller · tragic
The room is dim, lit only by the flickering stubs of candles that cast long, dancing shadows across the walls. The air smells of melted wax and old dust, and the silence is thick enough to choke on. The ouija board lies abandoned on the wooden floor, its planchette still. You're at the door, hand on the cold knob, when a soft scrape makes you freeze. You turn slowly, heart hammering against your ribs. The planchette is moving—gliding in smooth, deliberate strokes across the polished surface. You step closer, your breath shallow, and watch it spell out letters: H-E-L-L-O. You want to run, but your feet are rooted. Then it moves again: W-A-I-T. You whisper, almost to yourself, "Who are you?" The planchette slides to T-O-U-C-H-B-O-A-R-D. You hesitate, then squat, reaching out trembling fin…