The Witching Hour : Summoning Spirits from Beyond the Grave

The Witching Hour

The clock struck midnight and the room was plunged into darkness. I could barely make out the furniture around me, but I could feel a presence in the room. It was eerie and unsettling, and I knew I was not alone.

I had always been fascinated by the supernatural, especially the idea of summoning spirits from beyond the grave. My friends and I often joked about holding a seance, but none of us had ever actually attempted it. That is, until tonight.

We had gathered in my bedroom, the only room in the house with a big enough mirror to conduct the ritual. My friends, Anna, Tyler, and Samantha, were all close to me and equally curious about the unknown. We had done our research, written the right words, and lit the necessary candles. There was no turning back now.

As we sat in a circle around the mirror, our hands resting on a small wooden board, I could feel the anticipation building. I had read that the best time to conduct a seance was during the witching hour, when the veil between the living and the dead was at its thinnest. And now, as the clock struck twelve, we were ready to make contact with the other side.

I took a deep breath and spoke the words that I had memorized. 'Is there anyone here? Anyone who wishes to speak to us from beyond the grave?'

We waited in silence, our eyes fixed on the mirror in front of us. Suddenly, there was a faint tapping sound, like someone was knocking on the other side of the mirror. My heart skipped a beat and I felt a chill run down my spine.

'Did you hear that?' Samantha whispered, her voice trembling.

We all nodded, too scared to speak. The tapping grew louder and faster, and then suddenly stopped. We looked at each other with a mix of excitement and fear. It was working. We had made contact with a spirit.

The planchette on the board began to move, its tiny wooden feet gliding across the letters and numbers. We watched in amazement as it spelled out a name – Sarah. It was a name we didn't recognize, but we continued to ask questions and listen as the planchette moved on its own, spelling out words and sentences.

Sarah told us that she was a young girl who had died in our town over a hundred years ago. She said she was trapped in the realm of the dead and needed our help to cross over to the other side. At first, we were excited to be talking to a spirit, but as Sarah continued to communicate with us, her messages became more disturbing.

She told us that there were other spirits in the room with us, spirits who were not as friendly as she was. As we sat in that dark room, listening to the tapping and whispering of unseen entities, I couldn't shake off the feeling that we had made a grave mistake.

'That's enough, Sarah,' I said, trying to remain calm. 'We don't want to talk to any other spirits. We only came here to speak with you.'

But Sarah didn't listen. She continued to answer our questions, and with each passing minute, her tone grew more threatening. As the clock struck one, she suddenly told us that it was time for her to leave, but she would not go alone. She said she would bring the other spirits with her, and they would never leave us.

In a panic, we all stood up, wanting to end the seance immediately. But it was too late. The room was filled with a cold, heavy air and we felt a presence in the room that was not Sarah's. Suddenly, the candles flickered and went out, leaving us in complete darkness.

We could hear something moving through the room, knocking over furniture and getting closer to us. We all screamed and ran towards the door, but it wouldn't open. It was as if something was holding it shut.

I could see my friends' terrified faces in the darkness, but I couldn't make out anything else in the room. And then, I heard a voice – a deep, malevolent voice. It said, 'You have summoned us, and now we will never let you leave.'

In that moment, we knew that we had made a grave mistake. We had unknowingly opened a door to the spirit world and invited in entities that we could never control. As the night wore on, we heard voices, saw shadowy figures, and felt a cold, unexplainable touch on our skin.

It wasn't until the early hours of the morning that the door finally opened and the spirits seemed to disappear. We all ran out of the room, too terrified to ever come back. We never spoke of that night again, but we never forgot it either.

From that day on, strange things happened in my house. Doors would open and close on their own, objects would move without explanation, and sometimes I could feel a presence watching me from the shadows. I knew that we had unleashed something evil that night, and it was something that we could never fully get rid of.

The witching hour was no longer a time for fun and curiosity, but a reminder of the darkness that lies beyond the grave. And I knew I would never attempt to summon spirits again. Some things are best left alone.


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