The Ghostly Guardian One Minute's Watch Over the Dead

Sort:Forbidden Tales | Time:2025-06-17 14:01:09 | View Nums:1

In the heart of the ancient, misty forest, there stood an old, abandoned mansion. Its stone walls whispered tales of the past, and the air was thick with the scent of decay. The locals spoke of it with hushed tones, tales of strange occurrences and the occasional ghostly figure seen lurking within its shadowy halls. But none dared to venture too close, for the mansion was said to be cursed.

Among the villagers lived a young man named Eamon, whose curiosity often got the better of him. He had heard the stories of the mansion, but to him, it was just another tale of the supernatural. One crisp autumn evening, as the sun dipped below the horizon, casting a golden glow over the forest, Eamon decided to prove the villagers wrong. He would explore the mansion and uncover its secrets.

With a lantern in hand, Eamon stepped onto the overgrown path that led to the mansion. The air grew colder as he approached, and the shadows seemed to deepen. He pushed open the creaking front door, and the sound echoed through the empty halls. The scent of mildew and dust filled his nostrils, and he felt a shiver run down his spine.

The mansion was a labyrinth of rooms, each more decrepit than the last. Eamon wandered through the corridors, his lantern casting flickering shadows on the walls. He found himself in a large, dimly lit room with a grand, ornate clock hanging above the fireplace. The clock's hands were frozen at 11:59, and Eamon's heart skipped a beat.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the doorway. It was a woman, her eyes hollow and her skin pale. She wore a long, flowing dress that seemed to blend into the shadows. Her voice was soft and eerie, as if it came from everywhere at once.

"Welcome, Eamon," she said. "I have been expecting you."

Eamon's hand instinctively reached for his lantern, but it was gone. The woman stepped forward, her presence filling the room. "I am the Ghostly Guardian," she continued. "I have watched over this mansion for centuries. Now, it is your turn."

Eamon's mind raced. Who was this woman, and why was she here? The clock's hands continued to tick down, and he felt a sense of urgency. "What do you want from me?" he asked.

The Ghostly Guardian's eyes glinted with malice. "I demand that you watch over the dead for one minute," she said. "One minute for each soul that has passed through this mansion. Fail to comply, and you will suffer the same fate."

Eamon's heart pounded in his chest. He knew he had to do something, but he was unsure of what. The clock's hands were now at 11:58, and he felt a chill run down his spine. He had to make a decision, and fast.

Suddenly, a figure appeared in the room. It was an old man, his face lined with age and sorrow. He was dressed in rags, and his eyes were filled with pain. "Please, help me," he whispered. "I have been trapped here for centuries, and I cannot escape."

Eamon's heart ached for the man. He knew he had to help, but the Ghostly Guardian's warning echoed in his mind. He looked at the clock, which was now at 11:57. He had to make a choice.

He approached the old man, his hand outstretched. "I will help you," he said. "But I need to know how."

The old man's eyes lit up with hope. "There is a hidden door behind the fireplace," he said. "It leads to the afterlife. But you must be quick, for the clock is ticking."

Eamon nodded, his mind racing. He turned back to the Ghostly Guardian, who was now standing behind him. "I will help the old man," he said. "But I need one minute to do so."

The Ghostly Guardian's eyes narrowed. "Very well," she said. "But do not think you can escape my watch. You are bound to this mansion until you have fulfilled your duty."

Eamon nodded, his resolve steeling. He turned back to the old man, who was now reaching out to him. "Come, we must hurry," he said.

The old man led Eamon to the fireplace, and they began to search for the hidden door. The clock's hands were now at 11:56, and Eamon felt a sense of urgency. He had to find the door, and fast.

After what felt like an eternity, they found it. The old man pushed it open, and a cold wind rushed through the room. "Quickly!" he said, pulling Eamon through the door.

They stepped into a dark, eerie corridor. The old man led the way, his footsteps echoing in the silence. Eamon followed, his heart pounding in his chest. The clock's hands were now at 11:55, and he knew they had to move quickly.

The corridor ended at a large, ornate door. The old man pushed it open, and they stepped into a room filled with glowing orbs. "These are the spirits of those who have passed through this mansion," he said. "They are waiting for you."

Eamon looked around, his eyes wide with fear. He had to help these spirits, but he had only one minute. The clock's hands were now at 11:54, and he felt a sense of panic.

He approached the first spirit, a young woman with tears in her eyes. "I am sorry," he said. "I will help you."

The woman nodded, her eyes filling with gratitude. "Thank you," she whispered.

Eamon continued, helping each spirit one by one. The clock's hands were now at 11:53, and he knew he had to move quickly. He had to help all of them before the minute was up.

As he helped the last spirit, he felt a presence behind him. He turned to see the Ghostly Guardian, her eyes filled with malice. "You have one minute left," she said.

Eamon nodded, his heart pounding in his chest. He had to finish, and fast. He approached the final spirit, a young man with a smile on his face. "I am sorry," he said. "I will help you."

The young man nodded, his eyes filling with joy. "Thank you," he whispered.

Eamon helped the young man, and the clock's hands were now at 11:52. He had only a few more spirits to go. He approached the next one, a child with a toy in her hand. "I am sorry," he said. "I will help you."

The child nodded, her eyes filling with wonder. "Thank you," she whispered.