مولد صوت AI Horror مجاني من Fish Audio

अंधेरे गलियारे में एक काला साया खड़ा था, जिसकी आंखें अंगारों की तरह चमक रही थीं। अचानक हवा बर्फीली हो गई और कानों में फुसफुसाहट सुनाई दी। रूहें कभी पीछा नहीं छोड़तीं, वे बस सही वक्त का इंतजार करती हैं ताकि तुम्हें अंधेरों में खींच सकें।

I heard scratching coming from the basement. Sarah insisted we investigate, but I knew better. The light switch didn't work, of course. We stood at the top of the stairs, our phone flashlights barely penetrating the darkness below. Something moved in the shadows.

The footsteps upstairs always stop at the third floorboard, right above my bed. I've counted seventeen times now. Mom says it's just the house settling, but houses don't wear shoes that scratch against wood at exactly 3:27 AM.

Sarah noticed her reflection in the bathroom mirror wasn't quite right. When she blinked, it stayed still. When she moved, it waited a heartbeat too long. Then one morning, her reflection smiled at her before she did. That's when she knew it wasn't her reflection anymore.

Let me tell you about the mirror in my grandmother's house. It's been there for decades, perfectly normal during the day. But sometimes, at exactly 3:17 AM, the reflection shows a room that doesn't exist. Small pause. I've checked. Every wall. Every corner. That room isn't there.

In 1973, the midnight shift at Blackwood Mental Hospital reported a strange occurrence. Forty-two patients and seven staff members were found frozen in place, their eyes fixed on the ceiling. By morning, their bodies had turned to ash.

The basement morgue was always cold, but tonight it felt different. Dr. Chen noticed the temperature display showing impossible readings. The body in drawer 13 had been there three days, yet the staff swore they could hear humming coming from inside, getting louder each night.

Dear followers, the darkness has finally claimed me. After years of sharing horror stories, it's time for my final tale. Thank you for walking this shadowy path with me. The channel may be dead, but the nightmares will live on forever. Goodbye, my faithful listeners.