The grand Wolverhampton Manor stood in eerie silence under the pale moonlight. Once a place of luxury and extravagant parties, it now carried a dark shadow after the shocking news—Cheryl, a well-known public figure, was found lifeless in the manor’s lavish swimming pool. The incident sent ripples through the community, but what seemed like a tragic accident soon turned into a mystery that no one could ignore.
Detective James Carter arrived at the scene just as the forensic team was wrapping up their initial investigation. He had seen drownings before, but something about this case felt different. Cheryl was an excellent swimmer; reports confirmed she trained regularly. So how did she drown in a pool where she was most comfortable?
As he walked along the edge of the pool, his sharp eyes noticed something—a faint trail of wet footprints leading away from the water. They disappeared near the garden hedge. Someone had been there. But why would they leave without calling for help?
The security cameras provided the first major clue. At precisely 10:23 p.m., Cheryl could be seen swimming alone, her movements graceful and effortless. But then, something unusual happened. The water began to ripple violently, as if something had grabbed her. She struggled, arms flailing, before she suddenly disappeared beneath the surface. Thirty seconds passed. A full minute. Then, without explanation, the water went still. Cheryl never resurfaced.
James replayed the footage over and over, but he couldn’t explain what he was seeing. There was no one else in the pool. No signs of an attacker. No shadows. Just Cheryl… and then nothing. The official report ruled it an accidental drowning, but James refused to accept it.
Digging deeper, he discovered a chilling history. Wolverhampton Manor had a reputation. Decades ago, a woman named Evelyn Sinclair had drowned in the very same pool under mysterious circumstances. She had been the wife of the manor’s previous owner, and rumors suggested she had been betrayed by those closest to her. Her death was officially deemed an accident, but locals whispered a different story—that Evelyn had been murdered.
As James connected the dots, an unsettling pattern emerged. Every few decades, a woman met the same fate in this pool, always under unexplainable conditions. Was it a curse? A vengeful spirit? Or something even more sinister?
Determined to uncover the truth, James spent a night at the manor. He sat by the pool, watching the water’s surface, waiting. The night was still, save for the rustling of leaves in the wind. Midnight struck. The air grew heavy. Then, the water stirred.
A cold gust brushed against James’s skin as ripples formed in the center of the pool. His breath hitched as a shadowy figure emerged—a woman, her hair flowing like ink in the water. Evelyn. Her hollow eyes locked onto him, lips moving in a silent plea.
James wanted to run, but something rooted him in place. Then, he understood. She wasn’t trying to harm him—she was showing him something. The water swirled, revealing flashes of the past—Evelyn struggling against unseen hands, Cheryl gasping for air, a hidden figure watching from the shadows. A man.
The vision shattered, and James gasped, pulling himself back to reality. He knew what had to be done. Evelyn hadn’t drowned by accident. Neither had Cheryl. They had both been murdered. And the killer—whoever he was—was still out there.
James re-examined the security footage with a new perspective. This time, he focused not on Cheryl but on the background. There, barely noticeable in the reflection of the glass doors, stood a man in a dark coat, watching her. The same man had been seen in old photographs of Evelyn Sinclair’s final night. He hadn’t aged a day.
Heart pounding, James searched the manor’s records. One name kept appearing—a mysterious investor who had owned the estate for over a century. He should have been long dead, yet his name remained attached to property dealings even in recent years. It was impossible.
Or was it?
Realizing he was in deeper than he had thought, James made a call. He needed backup. But before he could speak, the line went dead. The lights flickered.
And then, the water in the pool began to ripple again
