The Invitation

The weathered old mansion stood at the end of a long gravel driveway, surrounded by towering oaks that whispered secrets in the wind. The Beaumont family hadn’t gathered here in years, not since their matriarch, Eleanor Beaumont, passed away. But this year, her youngest granddaughter, Lila, had decided to resurrect the family tradition and host a reunion.

By the time the guests arrived, the grand hall was alive with chatter and laughter, echoing off the high ceilings. Cousins swapped stories, uncles argued good-naturedly about sports, and Lila busied herself ensuring everyone had a plate of Eleanor’s signature apple pie. A fire crackled in the massive stone hearth, casting dancing shadows across the room.

It wasn’t until the group photos were taken that anyone noticed something was off.

The First Photo

After dessert, Lila pulled out her camera. She wanted a group photo in front of the old stone fireplace — a tradition Eleanor had started decades ago.

“Everyone gather up!” Lila called, setting up her tripod. The family jostled into position, cheeks flushed from wine and laughter. The flash went off, and Lila checked the screen.

Something made her pause.

“Who’s that?” she murmured, squinting at the photo.

“What?” her cousin Ethan asked, leaning over her shoulder.

Lila pointed to the screen. At the far edge of the group, barely illuminated by the firelight, stood a man. His features were hard to make out, but he had a somber expression, and his eyes seemed to glint unnaturally.

“Was he standing there the whole time?” Lila asked, but Ethan just shrugged.

“Probably a trick of the light. Take another one,” he said, dismissing her concern.

They did. This time, Lila made sure to scan the room carefully before snapping the photo. But when she checked the screen, the man was there again, this time standing slightly closer.

“Okay, who’s playing a joke?” Lila asked nervously.

“Lila, there’s no one there,” Aunt Margaret said, glancing toward the fireplace.

But Lila’s discomfort was spreading. Her heart thudded in her chest as she scrolled through the photos she had taken earlier in the evening. In each one, the same figure appeared — sometimes in the background, sometimes partially obscured by another guest. No one had noticed him at the time.

Lila turned the camera to the group. “Seriously, does anyone recognize him?”

The room grew quiet as everyone leaned in.

“Nope,” Ethan said, breaking the silence. “Maybe it’s a glitch or something?”

“It doesn’t feel like a glitch,” Lila muttered, her voice trembling.

Despite the unease spreading through the group, Lila convinced herself they were simply overthinking things. “Let’s just take one more picture,” she said nervously.

The family begrudgingly gathered again, the mood more subdued this time. Lila carefully adjusted the camera, making sure no one was out of place. She even had Ethan check behind the fireplace for any odd reflections.

The flash went off.

When Lila looked at the screen, her breath caught. The stranger was there again — closer this time. His face, though still blurry, seemed more defined, as if he was stepping out of the shadows.

“Lila, stop messing with us,” Aunt Margaret snapped.

“I’m not messing with anyone!” Lila shot back. “He’s there! Look!”

The family crowded around, murmurs of confusion growing louder. Lila wiped her palms on her dress and took another picture, her hands trembling.

The flash popped. The image appeared.

The man wasn’t just standing in the background anymore. He was sitting among them, his face turned directly toward the camera. His eyes seemed to pierce through the screen, and his expression was grave.

Aunt Margaret gasped. Ethan let out a nervous laugh, trying to brush it off, but even he couldn’t look away.

“Okay, this is — this is not normal,” Lila stammered. “What is going on?”

“Take another,” Ethan urged, his voice shaking now.

The family gathered for what Lila swore would be the last photo. The air in the room felt heavier, the fire in the hearth now casting shadows that danced far too erratically. Lila adjusted the lens one last time.

“Alright, everyone. Just smile,” she whispered, her voice cracking.

The flash went off.

When the image appeared on the screen, a collective gasp filled the room. The stranger in the photo wasn’t standing or sitting anymore. He was pointing — his arm outstretched toward the wall behind them.

A sudden heat pressed against Lila’s back. Turning, she saw it: the wallpaper above the fireplace had caught fire, flames licking upward with unnatural speed.

“The house!” someone shouted.

Panic erupted as the family scrambled. Smoke filled the room within moments, the thick, acrid smell of burning wood choking the air.

“We need to get out!” Ethan yelled, running to one of the old windows. He yanked at it, but the rusted frame wouldn’t budge.

Lila joined him, coughing as the smoke grew thicker. “Try the back door!” she cried.

Aunt Margaret ran to the kitchen, but moments later her frantic voice called out, “It’s locked! The handle won’t turn!”

The flames spread fast, consuming the walls and ceiling. Heat bore down on them like a living thing, pressing closer with every second. The air turned black, the smoke erasing every detail of the room until the family was lost in shadows.

Coughing, crying, and desperate screams faded into silence. And then, there was nothing but darkness.

The fire consumed the old house entirely, leaving behind only charred ruins and ash. And in the scorched remains of the living room, a single camera sat untouched, its screen cracked but functional.

On it was the final photo — the stranger, still pointing toward the wall. But now, his face was fully visible. He was smiling.

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