Years passed after the mysterious disappearance of the seven children, but the legend of the "Birthday House" never faded. No one dared go near it, not even teenagers looking for a thrill. The windows were caked with dust, the paint peeled from the walls, and the lawn grew wild—like the house was waiting for something... or someone.

But curiosity has a way of waking old things.

It was Halloween night, and three middle-schoolers—Tommy, Sarah, and Jake—stood in front of the abandoned house, staring at it with nervous excitement.

“Come on, don’t chicken out,” Tommy said, trying to act tough. “We go inside, take a picture, and we’re legends.”

“This place is cursed,” Sarah whispered, clutching her flashlight. “You heard the stories. The kids from Ben’s party never came back.”

Jake smirked. “Yeah, well, it’s just a story, right? My brother says the cops searched this place a hundred times and found nothing.”

Tommy nudged Sarah. “You don’t want to be the only one who stays behind, do you? Don’t be a baby.”

Reluctantly, Sarah followed the boys to the front door. It groaned as Tommy pushed it open, revealing the dim, dusty interior. The air was heavy, and it smelled faintly of something sweet—like stale birthday cake.

“I don’t like this,” Sarah muttered.

“Relax. It’s just an old house.” Jake stepped deeper inside, his footsteps echoing unnaturally.

The group wandered into the living room, where the remains of a crumpled "Happy Birthday" banner dangled from the ceiling. Tommy snickered. “See? Just a lame old house. Nothing scary.”

But Sarah’s stomach churned. There was something wrong about the place. The shadows seemed too dark. The silence was... waiting.

“Let’s take the picture and get out of here,” Sarah whispered.

Tommy raised his phone, but before he could snap a photo, the lights flickered on.

“What the—?” Tommy gasped, dropping his phone in shock. The house groaned, like it was stretching awake from a long sleep.

Then they heard it: laughter. Faint, distant, and childlike. It echoed from the walls, soft at first, then growing louder and louder, until it surrounded them from all sides.

Jake’s face paled. “That’s... not funny, guys. Stop messing around.”

“We’re not!” Sarah cried.

Suddenly, the lights went out, plunging them into darkness. The laughter continued—giggling, playful, and terribly wrong. And then they heard footsteps. Small,

light, and fast.

“Someone’s here,” Tommy whispered, his voice trembling. “We need to leave. Now.”

They sprinted for the front door, but it slammed shut on its own, as if the house were alive. No matter how hard Jake yanked on the doorknob, it wouldn't budge.

Sarah turned around, clutching her flashlight—and froze.

At the end of the hallway, standing perfectly still, was a girl. Her long black hair spilled over her shoulders, and her face was hidden in shadow. She wore a pink dress, stained with something dark.

“Who... who is that?” Tommy stammered.

The girl stepped forward, her bare feet padding softly

against the floor. Her eyes gleamed in the darkness.

“Hi,” she whispered. “Do you want to play?”

Sarah’s heart dropped into her stomach. “Pinky...” she whispered.

The girl smiled—too wide. Her teeth were sharp, gleaming in the dim light.

“Come play with me,” Pinky whispered again. “I’ve been waiting... for more friends.”

Tommy stumbled back in terror. “No... No way. This isn’t real!”

“Oh, but it is,” Pinky giggled. “And you’re just in time for the party.”

The walls trembled, and the house seemed to close in