The Sinister Seance


The air hung heavy with anticipation, the dim flicker of candlelight casting macabre shadows upon the faces of the assembled five. Their fingers tentatively linked, they formed a circle around a time-worn table where an array of arcane tools lay strewn upon a velvet cloth; a spirit board, a silver pendulum, and an ornately adorned spirit bell.

Helena, with her brilliant red hair falling like a cascade of embers over her alabaster shoulders, held the role of medium. Her piercing green eyes, normally sparkling with mischief, appeared clouded, subdued, as if tuned into a frequency of reality beyond the ordinary.

Their variance in response to her initiation of the séance was palpable. Arthur, with his spectacles glinting in the candle light, wore curiosity like a shroud; while Eloise, a dedicated skeptic, kept her disbelief in check through pursed lips and folded arms. Meanwhile, the twins, Rowena and Edward, echoed each other’s unease, a mirror of fear etched across their youthful faces.

Helena’s voice, soft yet penetrating, echoed through the hushed room, “We seek to communicate only with benign souls bestowing wisdom and peace.” Yet, even as the words danced in the air, a spectacle of preternatural chill seemed to creep over them, nudging away the warmth, replacing it with an overwhelming disquiet.

Suddenly, the spirit bell jingled a chilling note, chopping through their held breaths. The pendulum hanging above the spirit board began to swing violently, casting a grotesque ballet in the flickering candlelight, spelling an ominous message: ‘WE ARE HERE’.

Arthur quickly scribbled the message. His wide-eyed skepticism melting away, replaced by a stirring dread. Eloise, forever the cynic, accused Helena of trickery. But Helena, pale and visibly trembling, professed innocence.

Just then, the room descended into a deeper chill, a spectral frost that made their breaths appear as ghostly wisps. A resonating voice, unearthly yet clear, echoed through the room, “Arise… Converse… Breathe our dominion.”

The twins, pale as winter snow, clutched each other, inching away from the table in synchrony. The atmosphere was colored in an unnatural aura, dread infiltrated the room, leaking through the gaps of faith and courage, contaminating even the bravest heart.

Arthur, with a firm hand at his faith crucifix, began an urgent prayer. But the spirit, vile and potent, cut through his litany with a bone-rattling laughter.

“Prayers?” It echoed menacingly, “How quaint!”

Eloise, now a spectator in her own hell, screamed that they must end the séance. But the entity had them ensnared, tethered to a nightmare spiralling down into a vortex of dread. It reveled in their fear; it demanded their submission, their recognition of its power.

“With each beat of your fearful hearts, you affirm my presence.” The voice, a concoction of malice and amusement, echoed, rattling every piece of china in the elaborately furnished room, bringing forth a spectral symphony.

Suddenly, Helena with renewed vigor, broke the finger-link with Edward, rising with a fiery defiance. Her eyes no longer clouded but gleaming, mirroring the flickering candles encircling them.

“No more!” her voice filled the room, bold and resolute. “We opened the pathway, and we can close it. It’s our fear that feeds you, and our fear that we control.”

As her words filled the room, they caused a resonance, a palpable shift, even as the entity flinched at the demonstration of her will. She was their anchor, their strength, and now, their only hope to banish the intruder.

With that, the room felt as though the air had been stolen, the temperature dropping with an unthinkable chill before it all exploded into a flurry of horror and violence. The séance had only just begun, and their chilling ordeal was far from over.


What happens next?

Mild to Wild

1 = Keep it simple10 = Let's get wild

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