The Tower’s “Ghost”

The tower has always been a little… eccentric, but for the most part, I know its quirks. Creaky doors, shifting rooms, the occasional whispered “why” from nowhere—it’s all part of life here. But last night? Last night was something else entirely.

It started when I was brushing Blizzard before bed. She wasn’t thrilled about it, but I managed to untangle a few stubborn mats without losing a hand. Just as I was wrapping up, I heard it—a voice.

“Hello?”

I froze. It was faint, distant, and echoed through the stone halls like a whisper carried on the wind.

“Did you hear that?” I asked Blizzard, who just huffed and flicked her tail at me like I was imagining things. But I knew I wasn’t.

“Is… is someone there?” I called out, my voice trembling slightly.

Nothing.

I stared at the doorway, half-expecting a ghostly figure to appear. Of course, it didn’t—but the voice came again.

“Hello?”

This time, it was clearer, more insistent, and definitely coming from somewhere inside the tower. My heart raced as I grabbed the nearest candle and decided to investigate. Because apparently, I don’t value my life.

The voice seemed to move as I did, echoing through the halls in a way that made it impossible to pin down.

“Who’s there?” I called, my voice shaking slightly.

“Who’s there?” the voice mimicked, almost perfectly.

I stopped in my tracks. My grip tightened on the candle. “This isn’t funny!”

“This isn’t funny,” it replied, softer this time.

I swear my blood turned to ice. Was this a ghost? A spirit haunting the tower? Maybe a magical prankster my father forgot to warn me about?

I pressed on, following the sound as it led me up a spiral staircase and into one of the empty study rooms. The door creaked as I pushed it open, and the candlelight spilled into the dark space.

“Hello?”

The voice came again, softer now. My eyes darted around the room, searching for… well, anything. And then I saw it.

Perched on the edge of a high bookshelf was a bird.

But not just any bird—this one was massive, almost the size of a cat, with sleek black feathers that shimmered faintly in the candlelight. Its beady eyes glinted as it tilted its head, watching me with unsettling intelligence.

“Hello?” it croaked.

I nearly dropped the candle.

“You—you’re the one talking?” I stammered, staring at it like it might transform into a wizard at any moment.

The bird tilted its head the other way. “You’re the one talking?” it mimicked back, its voice eerily human.

I’d never seen a bird like this before. It wasn’t like the tiny songbirds that sometimes perched on the windowsills or the owls that roamed the forest. This bird was… strange.

“What are you?” I asked, more to myself than to the bird.

“What are you?” it replied, flapping its wings as if to emphasize the point.

I edged closer, curious despite myself. The bird didn’t seem afraid of me—in fact, it looked almost smug, like it knew exactly how much it had spooked me.

“You shouldn’t be in here,” I said, pointing toward the window. “This is my tower.”

“My tower,” it echoed, fluffing up its feathers.

I groaned. Great, a bird with an attitude.

Blizzard padded into the room, her icy blue eyes narrowing as she spotted the intruder. She growled low in her throat, but the bird didn’t even flinch. Instead, it cawed loudly, almost like it was laughing at her.

Blizzard leapt onto a chair, ready to pounce, but the bird was faster. It spread its wings and swooped over our heads, disappearing out the door with a mocking, “Goodbye!”

I stood there for a moment, trying to process what had just happened.

“So… not a ghost,” I muttered, more to myself than to Blizzard.

Blizzard huffed, clearly annoyed that the bird had escaped. She jumped down from the chair and padded over to me, her tail flicking in irritation.

“Do you think it’ll come back?” I asked her.

Blizzard just snorted, which I took as a solid maybe.

Since then, I’ve been keeping an ear out for the bird—or whatever it was—but so far, it hasn’t returned. Part of me hopes it doesn’t, but another part of me is kind of curious. Where did it come from? How did it learn to mimic voices? And, most importantly, how many other creepy surprises is this tower hiding?

Because, let’s be honest, if there’s one talking bird, there might be more. And knowing this place, they’re probably plotting something.

If you ever hear a voice echoing in the dark, don’t assume it’s a ghost. It might just be a weird, sassy bird with a talent for mimicry. Still creepy, though.