The Whispers Beneath the Floorboards (Hauntings, #1)

Maple Street was eerily quiet, the air thick with an unsettling stillness.

The house loomed before him, a dilapidated structure that seemed to whisper its history of abandonment. It had stood for decades, perhaps even centuries, its once-white paint peeling like dead skin, leaving the dark wood beneath exposed to the elements. The windows, clouded with grime and cobwebs, stared back at him like hollow eyes.