‎
‎My Security Man always chase her away, Because I instructed him not to allow any Stranger in, And anytime I come back from Work, he tells me What the Màd woman Said.
‎
‎Weeks passed, The Måd Woman always come every Friday evening, And says the Same thing “I have the 7 Mysteries that your Boss needs to know about”, So One Friday night I allowed her to enter, so I can just hear what She has to say.
‎
‎She looked so tàttered Due to roaming about and eating Dústbins, but I don’t mind, I just needed to hear what the Woman needs to say.
‎
‎So I allowed her enter my house that Friday night, And she told me to go upstairs, so she can show me some things.

‎
‎We entered a room upstairs, locked the door, and she looked at me and said ” I’ll show you the 7 Mysteries in 7 different rooms, I hope you have up to 7 rooms?”
‎
‎”Yeah I have “
‎
‎So she opened her bag, took out a white blanket and covered My eyes.
‎
‎Immediately she covered My eyes, I screamed so loud as Sweat started dripping from my body,
‎She laughed, opened the blanket and said “Describe what you see”
‎
‎I stammered ” I… I Saw a Fat woman dressed with Red and white, with 3 Eyes, Brown teeth, She’s not wearing slippers… Who is she???!”
‎
‎She laughed again, and frowned immediately “You’re Mårried to the Spirit World, she’s your Spiritual Wife, She’s the reason why you’re Not Married, She’s the reason no lady wants to associate with you, She’s a Jealous Spiritual Wife; any girl you plan to marry, She destroys such plans immediately!…”
‎
‎I stood there frozen with tèars…, I asked The Màd woman “So, What is the solution?, please help me, please!”
‎
‎”I’ll give you the Solution after I have told you the 7 Mysteries affecting your life, it will be a very serious battle, but for now FoIIow me to the second Room, so I can show you the second Mystery “
‎
The Mad Woman Opened My Second Door—And What I Saw Inside Almost Made Me Run Mad Too
Episode 2

She held my hand tightly as we left the first room. My heart was pounding so loudly I could hear it in my ears. The air around us felt thicker, like the walls themselves were breathing.

The mad woman—if she truly was mad—walked barefoot and hummed an old song that made my skin crawl. We stopped in front of the second door. The number 2 on the wooden frame flickered faintly like it was alive.

“Before I open this one,” she said in a deep, eerie tone, “you must promise not to scream… because if you do, it will know you’ve seen it.”

I swallowed hard, nodding, though my legs trembled. She opened her bag again and sprinkled what looked like ashes on the floor. The moment the ashes touched the ground, a cold wind blew through the room, even though all the windows were shut.

She then whispered, “Now, open your eyes fully and look beyond the physical.”

My body began to shake uncontrollably. In front of me stood a mirror I’d never seen before. My reflection looked back, but something was wrong—it wasn’t copying my movements. When I raised my hand, the reflection smiled instead.

“Do you see it?” she asked.

“Yes,” I whispered.

“Good,” she said. “That’s not you. That’s your shadow twin—the spirit that feeds on your glory while you sleep. He wakes when you rest, and every time you dream, he eats a piece of your destiny.”

I stumbled backward in disbelief. “How can that be?!” I yelled. “How can a shadow eat destiny?”

She turned slowly, her voice trembling with ancient power. “Because your birth was not ordinary. You were chosen for greatness, but your father made a blood vow before you were born. That vow split your soul in two—one light, one dark. And this second mystery you see before you is the curse of your divided soul.”

My heart sank as I looked at the mirror again, and this time, my reflection began crying blood. I screamed, but no sound came out.

The mad woman grabbed me and shouted, “I told you not to scream! Now it knows you’ve seen it!”

The lights flickered, and the mirror cracked with a thunderous sound. I fell to the floor, gasping for air.

She leaned over me and whispered, “Now it will begin to hunt you… until we reach the seventh mystery.”

I looked at her with terrified eyes. “What happens if we don’t finish all seven?” I asked weakly.

She smirked. “Then it will take your place completely, and you will become the shadow.”

My whole body went cold.

“Let’s go to the third room,” she said, standing up. “The real battle starts there.”

The Third Door Cried Before We Opened It—And Something Was Waiting Inside
Episode 3

As we stood before the third door, I could swear the entire house began to breathe. The walls pulsed faintly, like veins under skin. I wanted to run, to escape whatever madness this night had become, but something stronger than fear kept me there—maybe curiosity, maybe destiny.

The mad woman stood silently for a moment, her eyes half closed as if she was listening to voices I couldn’t hear. Then she said softly, “This one… is the door of remembrance. It holds the memory your family buried from you. But it will not open unless you are ready to remember.”

Before I could ask what she meant, the wooden door began to tremble. A low wailing sound echoed from inside, like a child crying. I froze. “Why is it crying?” I whispered.

She turned to me slowly, her face suddenly sorrowful. “Because you once cried inside there.”

My heart skipped. “What?”

She placed her palm on the door. “You were only five when your mother brought you to this house. She made a deal that saved your life but chained your soul. The third mystery is the price she paid.”

The door creaked open by itself. Darkness poured out like smoke, and inside was a small, candle-lit room. I saw a broken crib, old children’s toys, and something that made my knees weaken—a photograph nailed to the wall of a little boy… me.

“Why is this here?” I stammered. “Why is my picture in this place?”

The mad woman whispered, “Because this house was never yours. It belonged to the spirit that took your mother’s womb. You are living in a borrowed destiny, and that is why everything you touch turns to pain.”

Suddenly, the toys began to move. The teddy bear turned its head toward me, its button eyes glowing red. The toy drum started beating on its own. And then, from the crib, I heard a voice—soft, childish, and broken.

“Daddy… why did you leave me here?”

I screamed, falling backward. “That’s not possible! I don’t have a child!”

The mad woman looked at me, her eyes filled with pity. “You do. But not in this world.”

The candlelight flickered violently. I saw a tiny shadow crawl out from under the crib—small, fragile, with glowing eyes. It crawled toward me, whispering in a trembling voice, “You promised to come back.”

The room suddenly grew ice cold. The shadow reached out its little hand, touching my leg, and instantly, flashes of forgotten memories flooded my mind—my mother crying, strange rituals, a shadow woman with three eyes standing behind her, a promise sealed with blood.

I screamed again, clutching my head. The mad woman grabbed me and shouted, “Don’t reject the memory! If you reject it, the spirit will consume what’s left of your light!”

I could barely breathe. “Tell me what to do!” I cried.

She said, “You must forgive your mother before we leave this room. Say it aloud, or you’ll never leave.”

Tears streamed down my face. “I forgive you, Mama,” I sobbed. “I forgive you for what you did to save me!”

Instantly, the room went silent. The toys stopped moving. The shadow child faded slowly, whispering, “Thank you, Daddy.”

The door slammed shut behind us. The mad woman turned to me and said, “Three mysteries down. Four more to go. The next one won’t just test your soul—it will test your faith.”

I looked at her, trembling. “Will I survive this?”

She gave a small, tired smile. “That depends on how ready you are to face the fourth room—the one that bleeds before it opens.”

The Fourth Room Bled Before We Opened It—And It Wanted My Blood Too”
Episode 4

The moment we reached the fourth door, the air in the hallway grew thick like smoke. The mad woman stopped walking and stared at the wooden door ahead of us. It was already wet—dark red liquid dripping down from its handle to the floor. I thought it was paint at first… until the metallic smell hit me. Blood. Fresh blood.

I froze. “Why is it bleeding?” I asked, my voice trembling.

She looked at me with grave eyes. “Because it knows we’re coming. This is the door of sacrifice. It always demands blood before it opens—but tonight, it’s hungry for yours.”

I took a step back. “No. I can’t do this anymore. You said there were seven mysteries, but I can’t even survive four.”

She raised her hand sharply. “You can’t stop now! If you walk away, the three spirits we’ve awakened will hunt you until the end of your days. You must finish this one, or you’ll never have peace again.”

I clenched my fists, trying to be brave, but my body was shaking. “Then what do I have to do?”

She reached into her tattered bag and pulled out a rusty knife. “You must give it a drop of your blood. Just one. Then the door will open, and you’ll see the root of your suffering.”

I hesitated, but the walls around us started to pulse and groan like something alive. The floorboards cracked beneath our feet. My instincts screamed to run—but something deep in me whispered, it’s time to know the truth.

I took the knife and cut my palm slightly. The blood dripped onto the door handle, sizzling like acid. Instantly, the bleeding door swung open, and a blast of cold air hit us. Inside was a dark room filled with candles, each flame flickering blue. At the center stood a wooden chair, and on that chair—was my mother.

I gasped. “No… that’s not possible. She died years ago!”

She raised her head slowly, her eyes glowing faintly. “My son,” she whispered. “I told you never to open this room.”

I stepped forward, tears flooding my eyes. “Mama, what is all this? What did you do to me? Why is my life cursed?”

The mad woman stood silently in the doorway, her face unreadable. My mother smiled weakly. “Everything I did… I did to protect you. You were born marked by the spirits. They wanted your soul before you even took your first breath. I bargained with them. I gave them me instead.”

I shook my head, backing away. “No! You left me to suffer! You cursed me!”

She looked down, her tears glowing like drops of light. “I didn’t curse you, my son. I carried your burden. But when I died, the pact broke—and they came for you. The only way to end it… is to give them back what’s theirs.”

Before I could ask what she meant, the candles flared up. The mad woman screamed, “Don’t listen to her! She’s no longer your mother—she’s what’s left of the spirit that took her form!”

The ground began to shake violently. My mother’s image flickered like a mirage. Her face twisted, turning pale and stretched. Her eyes became black hollows. “Give me your hand,” she hissed. “Only your blood can free us both!”

I turned to the mad woman in panic. “What do I do?”

She shouted, “Don’t touch her! If she takes your blood, your soul is gone forever!”

I stood frozen between them—my mother begging, the mad woman warning, and the room trembling like it would collapse. My heart screamed for my mother, but my mind screamed for my life. Then I remembered the shadow child from the third room whispering, Thank you, Daddy. That voice—pure, innocent—cut through the chaos.

I dropped to my knees and prayed, “God, if this is truly my mother’s soul, save her. But if it’s the spirit, expose it now!”

The moment I said those words, a thunderous roar filled the room. The fake mother shrieked, her body burning into smoke. A serpent-like shadow burst out of her chest and slithered toward the ceiling, hissing violently. The mad woman threw her blanket over me and shouted ancient words. The shadow screamed and vanished into thin air.

Silence followed. The candles went out one by one. When I looked up again, the chair was empty—but the real photograph of my mother now lay on it, untouched by the chaos. I picked it up, crying softly. “Rest now, Mama.”

The mad woman touched my shoulder gently. “It’s done. The fourth mystery is complete. You are free from her covenant. The other three doors will never open again.”

I looked at her, trembling but relieved. “Who are you, really?”

She smiled faintly, her face softening for the first time. “Someone who once made the same mistake your mother did. I’ve spent my life saving the children of broken covenants.”

I wanted to thank her, but before I could speak, she turned toward the hallway. “My work here is done,” she whispered. Then she walked away slowly, fading into the air like mist.

I stood alone in the quiet house, holding my mother’s photograph. The bleeding door had turned dry, and the house was finally still. For the first time in years, I felt peace.

But as I turned to leave, I noticed something chilling—one last door at the end of the corridor, one that hadn’t been there before. Its number read 7.

I stared at it, frozen. Then, faintly, from behind the door came a soft knock—three times.

I whispered, “No… it can’t be.”

The knocking came again, louder this time. Then a familiar voice whispered from inside, “You forgot the sixth room…”

The lights flickered. The house exhaled again.

And just like that—everything went dark.

THE END.