《Melissa - Do you fear demons?》 Prologue Do You Fear Demons? It doesn¡¯t matter how many times you deny it, or how often you try to escape what frightens you. The demons are always nearby, lurking, waiting for the exact moment to strike. Stay alert. Many stories are told about ghosts¡ªsouls of people who died under strange or tragic circumstances. The tale has been illicitly lifted; should you spot it on Amazon, report the violation. They say these spirits wander through houses and neighborhoods, day and night, maybe trying to reach their loved ones... or seeking revenge. But that¡¯s a lie. When people die, they vanish. And it¡¯s the demons who come¡ªto feed on the living¡­ and their fears. The saddest part of this truth is that those who died unjustly will never return. But the demons¡­ They¡¯ll always be there. They¡¯ll watch you. They¡¯ll hunt you. They¡¯ll try to take over you¡ªuntil they kill you. They¡¯ll want your soul. And if they get it, you¡¯ll become a miserable, hollow shell. Now that you know the truth... What will you do? Chapter I – Buzz An ordinary family in an average neighborhood: a mother, a father, and a daughter who had just turned sixteen. Melissa was at that age when many feel the need to experience new emotions. It¡¯s a complicated stage. The danger lurking outside isn¡¯t always easy to recognize. There are pleasant things, sure¡ªbut they can be easily confused with risky situations. And without the maturity to tell the difference, it''s hard to know how to face them. Almost all teenagers go through similar processes, but not all of them are the same. Mar¨ªa was Melissa¡¯s best friend and classmate. For some time now, she had started acting strange. They used to be inseparable, known for their contagious laughter and radiant energy. Whether they were talking about boys or presenting a project in class, both stood out with their wild sense of humor and uncontrollable giggles¡ªeven the teachers couldn¡¯t help but laugh with them. But little by little, Mar¨ªa stopped being that vibrant girl. Her teachers and classmates began to notice. Whispers floated through the hallways: ¡°What¡¯s wrong with Mar¨ªa?¡± or ¡°She¡¯s not the same anymore¡­¡± Melissa, however, didn¡¯t brush it off. She was truly worried. She tried to talk to her whenever she could, but Mar¨ªa would just stare back coldly, as if she were no longer the same person. Melissa even went to her house several times, but Mar¨ªa¡¯s parents always gave short, evasive answers. The last time, something inside her screamed, ¡°Something is very wrong here.¡± Frightened and frustrated, she went to the school principal and the math teacher¡ªsisters, both in charge of the institution¡ªand begged them to do something. They agreed. Unauthorized usage: this tale is on Amazon without the author''s consent. Report any sightings. Mar¨ªa had already been absent for three days and wasn¡¯t answering any calls. On the fourth day, Isabel (the principal), Sandra (her sister), and Melissa went to the house. They knocked on the door for several minutes. No one answered. They decided to call the police. But Melissa¡¯s dreadful feeling was too strong. She stepped forward¡­ and the door creaked open. The two women, filled with fear and uncertainty, followed her inside. What they found was a horrifying scene. There was blood everywhere. In the kitchen lay the bodies of Mar¨ªa¡¯s mother and older sister¡ªbrutally stabbed. Suddenly, a buzzing sound¡ªlike the whistle of the wind¡ªcame from the second floor. Melissa and Isabel ran upstairs. Sandra, her hands trembling, tried to call emergency services. Blood stained the stairs, and the walls, leaving a trail. ¡°Mar¨ªa! Mar¨ªa!¡± they shouted into the darkness. A half-open door. Melissa, shaking, pushed it open. It was the room of Mar¨ªa¡¯s younger brother. Inside were his body¡ªand the father''s. Both had been slaughtered, their throats slit. Only one place was left to check: the parents¡¯ bedroom. There, on the bed, they found Mar¨ªa. She was covered in blood, with deep cuts on her forearms. Melissa couldn¡¯t understand what had happened. Her cries echoed throughout the neighborhood. The police sealed off the area. Neighbors crowded the street. Isabel and Sandra were in shock. Melissa, silent, could only think of the happy memories of her friend. The police reports concluded that Mar¨ªa had gone mad, murdered her family¡­ and then taken her own life. The school declared three days of mourning. But it was far from over. Weeks later, another tragedy: Principal Isabel lost her mind, killed her sister Sandra, and then committed suicide. Melissa never recovered. She claimed to hear a constant buzzing. She insisted someone else had been in that house that day. Terrifying images haunted her mind, and she was admitted to a psychiatric facility. Neither medication nor therapy could calm her. Her thoughts repeated over and over again¡­ Who else was in that house? Chapter II – The House Some time had passed since Melissa was admitted to the psychiatric hospital to recover from the trauma. Apparently, therapy had worked¡ªher improvement was remarkable. She was discharged quickly. She was ready to return to a normal life. However, her doctor gave her devastating news: her parents had died just a few days earlier, and the police were investigating the circumstances, as the causes remained unclear. The pain was unbearable. Even the doctors feared she might relapse. But something had changed in Melissa during her time in the hospital. Her attitude toward pain and loss was no longer the same. She no longer gave in to anxiety or fear. On the contrary¡ªshe seemed calm, determined... almost cold. She requested to see her parents'' bodies to say goodbye. She also asked to return to her house one last time. Being a minor with no close relatives, she was sent to a foster home. There, a woman named Fermina, around sixty-five, would care for her until she reached adulthood and finished her studies. The house was old and poorly maintained. It didn¡¯t seem to receive much help from the government or any NGO, but it still managed to stay afloat and provide shelter to orphaned children. Fermina was responsible for three teenagers between the ages of 15 and 17¡ªPedro, Juliana, and Christian¡ªand a ten-year-old girl named Susan. They had all arrived under tragic circumstances, pushed there by misfortune. There were two empty rooms, ready to welcome new members: one for a teenage girl recently discharged from a psychiatric hospital after losing her parents, and one for an eleven-year-old boy who would arrive four days later, also the victim of a similar story. Melissa arrived with hopeful expectations. If you find this story on Amazon, be aware that it has been stolen. Please report the infringement. She settled into her room and tried to adapt to the environment. Fermina was strict, and her rules made it clear: meals, baths, and bedtime had set schedules. No wandering around the house at night. No noise after 10 PM. Lights had to be off at a set time. As expected, Joan arrived a few days later. The boy came in with his head down, looking sad. He hadn¡¯t been allowed to see his parents or sister before the burials. He also wasn¡¯t told the cause of their deaths. At school, they informed him he could no longer attend due to lack of funding, and that during the school break, he would be transferred to a foster home. The taxi dropped him off just past eight in the evening. It was raining. It was cold. When the car stopped in front of the house, Joan asked the driver if it was the right address. The man, barely able to see through the rain, replied indifferently: it was the address he had been given, and this was where the boy was supposed to stay. Without another word, he drove off. The entrance to the house was dark, the garden overgrown with tall grass. There were no other houses nearby. The air smelled strange¡ªalmost nauseating. Joan was left alone. He knocked on the door, hoping someone would answer. Nothing. He tried not to panic. He grabbed the handle, and the door creaked open easily. Maybe they left it open for me, he thought, feeling a slight wave of relief. Inside, the house was pitch black. The wooden floor creaked beneath his feet. He wasn¡¯t sure whether to close the door or leave it open. He looked around. Then, in one of the side hallways, he saw a figure. It looked like a person¡­ slowly walking toward him. Joan began to tremble. The figure picked up its pace, moving faster, more determined. The door slammed shut behind him, and a buzzing sound¡ªlike a furious wind¡ªfilled the house. ¡°Hello?¡± he managed to whisper, his voice shaking. Then another voice answered¡ªsweet and warm: ¡°Hi there! You must be Joan, right?¡± He turned to the right. There she was¡ªa girl standing on the staircase, smiling, waving at him. Joan glanced back at the hallway. The shadowy figure vanished into the darkness. ¡°What¡¯s wrong? Oh! You must be cold. Come with me, I¡¯ll show you your room.¡± Still frightened, Joan felt a strange sense of peace near the girl. There was something in her voice that soothed him. ¡°What¡¯s your name?¡± he asked. Her smile grew even warmer as she replied: ¡°You¡¯re right¡ªwe haven¡¯t introduced ourselves. My name is Melissa. Nice to meet you.¡±