Introduction
Night Of The Possessed Horrible Story The night of August 17, 1997, would go down in history as the night that reality itself seemed to break in the tranquil little hamlet of Blackwood, where nothing ever seemed out of the ordinary. Because its residents led modest lives and there were no sinister secrets hiding in its corners, the town had always been serene. Or so they believed.
But something unthinkable happened that night. They had to face a horrifying reality that had been there in front of them, and it was a night that would shake the entire community. One young woman became the unwilling receptacle for an ancient evil that would do whatever it took to take her soul on the night of the possessed.
The Arrival of Sarah
Sarah Wheeler was just an ordinary 19-year-old girl. She had grown up in Blackwood, but had left for college and never looked back. She had no particular fondness for the town, nor did she feel any need to return. But when her mother, Helen, fell ill, Sarah rushed back to care for her.
The house was old, nestled at the edge of a dense forest. It had been in the Wheeler family for generations, and despite its creaking floors and faded wallpaper, it was home. Sarah wasn’t particularly spooked by the old house, but something about it always made her uneasy—especially the attic. She could never bring herself to go up there, even as a child.
“Probably just childhood fear,” Sarah would tell herself whenever she thought about the attic. But deep down, she knew there was something about the house that didn’t sit right.
Helen had grown weaker with each passing day, and Sarah did her best to care for her. The days passed slowly—full of doctors’ visits, medication, and long, quiet nights. But on August 17th, something changed. That evening, after Sarah had put her mother to bed, she sat down to relax, as she usually did, with a cup of tea.
Then, it started.
The First Signs of Trouble
At first, it was subtle. A whisper here, a soft scratching noise there—just sounds that didn’t quite fit. Sarah would get up and search the house, but every time, she’d find nothing.
The noises grew louder as the night wore on. There were voices now—low, indecipherable murmurs coming from the walls. They seemed to emanate from every corner of the house. It was as though something—or someone—was trying to speak to her.
But Sarah wasn’t alone. Her mother, who had been in a deep, medicated sleep, began to stir in her room. From the hallway, Sarah could hear her calling her name in a strained voice, but when she rushed in, her mother was unconscious.
Then, the room became colder—so cold that Sarah’s breath formed a visible mist in the air. It was the kind of cold that gnawed at your bones, making you feel like you were being slowly suffocated.
“Mom?” Sarah whispered, kneeling beside the bed, her heart pounding. “Mom, are you okay?”
Helen’s eyes opened, but they weren’t the eyes Sarah recognized. They were wide, unblinking, and glassy—like something else was looking through them.
“Sarah…” Helen’s voice was not her own. It was deep, guttural, and echoed in a way that made Sarah’s skin crawl. “You should have stayed away from this house.”
Terrified, Sarah backed away, but the words continued. “This house has a hunger… and it will never be satisfied.”
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The Possession
At first, Sarah thought it was some side effect of her mother’s illness, but she quickly realized it was something far worse. Over the next few days, her mother’s condition worsened rapidly, and her behavior became more erratic. Helen began speaking in languages Sarah didn’t recognize, her voice shifting between guttural growls and high-pitched, childlike whimpers.
Sarah’s attempts to comfort her mother were met with violent outbursts, and she could no longer sleep, the presence in the house weighing heavily on her.
One evening, as Sarah tried to feed her mother, a chilling event occurred that made her heart freeze with terror.
Helen, her eyes once again vacant and unnerving, suddenly grinned—a smile that stretched unnaturally wide. Her skin became pale and clammy, and her fingers curled unnaturally, like claws.
“No more pity,” she rasped, before leaning forward and whispering directly into Sarah’s ear.
“We are already here.”
The moment those words were spoken, Sarah was thrown back against the wall as though some invisible force had shoved her. The room seemed to tremble, the walls shaking and groaning, as if the house itself was coming alive.
The Entity’s Power
It was at that moment that Sarah realized: whatever had taken her mother was not something human. It was an ancient force, something that had been lying dormant for generations—waiting for the right moment to emerge.
Sarah sought help. She contacted the local priest, Father Miller, a kind-hearted but skeptical man who had never believed in supernatural events. But when he arrived at the Wheeler house and witnessed the horrors unfolding, his skepticism evaporated.
“The house…” Father Miller whispered, eyes wide with fear. “It’s cursed. I’ve heard the stories, but I never believed them until now.”
With no time to waste, Father Miller performed an exorcism on Helen, chanting prayers and holding up a crucifix. But the entity inside her was too powerful. The air grew thick with a palpable darkness, and the room was filled with the sound of screams—some were Helen’s, but others were not.
Sarah could hear voices, pleading and begging for release, and then, the room suddenly fell silent.
Father Miller’s face was pale as he turned to Sarah. “I’m sorry. It’s not her anymore. You need to leave. You have to leave.”
The Final Confrontation
The entity’s hold over Sarah’s mother grew stronger with each passing day. At night, the whispers came again, urging her to come closer, to listen.
One night, unable to take it any longer, Sarah decided to confront whatever had taken her mother’s soul. She ventured into the attic, the place she had always avoided as a child. It was there, in the attic, that Sarah uncovered the source of the curse.
An old, worn wooden chest sat in the corner, dust covering its surface. Inside, wrapped in an old tattered cloth, was a book—its pages yellowed with age. As Sarah touched the book, she felt a coldness seep into her skin, like it was alive.
The book was covered in strange symbols, some of which looked like they were written in blood. As Sarah flipped through the pages, she found an ancient ritual described in disturbing detail. The ritual was said to summon a powerful demon that would possess the body of the first person to open the book.
And the book had been in her family for generations.
Suddenly, the door to the attic slammed shut. The whispers became screams, and Sarah felt the air grow heavier around her. A presence loomed, and the temperature plummeted.
It was then that her mother appeared, standing in the doorway, her eyes glowing a bright, unnatural red. She smiled that same twisted grin.
“Sarah…” she hissed. “You should have stayed away.”
The Unthinkable Choice
With no other options left, Sarah realized that in order to break the curse, she would have to destroy the book and banish the entity once and for all. But destroying it came at a terrible cost. The demon would exact a final price.
As she took the book and held it above her head, ready to burn it, her mother’s voice—now twisted and unrecognizable—begged her to stop.
“Don’t do it, Sarah! You don’t know what you’re unleashing! We are eternal, and we will never let you go!”
But Sarah didn’t hesitate. With one swift motion, she threw the book into the fireplace and set it alight. The room shook, and the demon let out a deafening screech, the sound of a thousand voices crying out in torment.
The flames consumed the book, and with it, the entity that had tormented her family. Her mother’s body collapsed to the floor, lifeless and empty.
The Aftermath
In the aftermath of the terrifying events, Sarah left Blackwood. She couldn’t stay in the house any longer, not after what she had witnessed. The town of Blackwood was left to recover from the horrors that had unfolded within the walls of the Wheeler house.
But Sarah never truly escaped the curse. The memories of that night stayed with her, tormenting her dreams and every waking moment. The whispers—soft and chilling—would follow her wherever she went.
She knew, deep down, that something dark had been unleashed that night, and though the demon was gone, its mark would forever remain.
Conclusion
Whispered in the shadowy nooks of Blackwood, the tale of Sarah and her mother became a folktale. Even though the Wheeler house had been abandoned and its walls were now silent, people who were aware of the events of that night still shuddered whenever they passed it.
And no matter where she went, Sarah would always remember her mother’s eyes—or the darkness that had engulfed her.