Solved Murders - True Crime Stories - A Mother’s Pact with Darkness to Avenge the Horror That Destroyed Her Daughter’s Life PART7 #10

Episode Date: July 21, 2025

#horrorstories #reddithorrorstories #ScaryStories #creepypasta #horrortales#darkvengeance #hauntedmind #cursedmother #supernaturalbattle #shadowcurse  In Part 7, the battle between light and darkness reaches new heights. The mother wrestles with the physical and spiritual scars left by her pact, as unseen enemies close in and her grip on reality loosens. Haunted by memories and visions, she prepares for a final reckoning, knowing the fight to save her daughter’s legacy may cost her everything. This chapter explores the consequences of a soul deeply entwined with dark forces and the desperate struggle to reclaim what remains of humanity.  horrorstories, reddithorrorstories, scarystories, horrorstory, creepypasta, horrortales,shadowbattle, cursedvengeance, hauntedlegacy, motheranddarkness, supernaturalstruggle, griefandcurse,darknessinside, emotionalterror, pactofshadows, eldritchterror, horrorseries, mothervshorror,revengecurse, horrorpenultimate, hauntedmindgames, darkquest, soulstruggle, tragicdarkness

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Make Christmas for everyone at Dunstores. Terms and conditions apply. Vouchers Compused on next grocery shop, DRSVES apply. The wind picked up as Moni made her way back to the graveyard, her mind still haunted by the echoes of Lucian's memories. The harshness of his father's death, the brutal, heart-shattering image of him lying there in the dirt, was something Moni couldn't shake. But she instinctively knew the story didn't end there. There were more pieces, more fragments of his life that still needed to be uncovered, like a puzzle whose final picture remained just out of reach. Lucian's pain hadn't been confined to that one night of bloodshed.

No, it had lingered, had grown darker, as he was passed from one hand to another, like an unwanted object, discarded and forgotten. Moni felt it in the air, the oppressive weight of what came next. Lucian had been a boy, fragile in ways that no one seemed to understand. He had been handed over to distant relatives, people who saw him not as family, but as a burden. A thing to be managed, to be controlled, kept out of sight, out of mind. It wasn't just his life that had been shattered. His very existence had been erased from the story of the town.

The town that had once whispered his name with suspicion and now spoke of him only in the faintest of shadows, a ghost without a face, a boy who had no place. Money had been searching for the house of shadows for days, following the threat of Lucian's memories through his tumultuous youth, but nothing could prepare her for what she would find. It was an old house, hidden at the edge of the village, tucked away behind a wall of brambles and twisted trees. The air around it seemed heavy, as though the very ground beneath its foundation had absorbed decades of sorrow. The windows were dark, the wood of the building long since faded and decayed, its once pristine white paint

now chipped and peeling, revealing the raw bones of the house beneath. Mone hesitated for a moment before crossing the threshold. There was something about the house that felt off, something about the way it seemed to resist her presence, as if it were alive, as if it had witnessed too much to ever let anyone in without demanding a price. Stepping inside, she was immediately struck by the oppressive silence.

The air inside was thick with dust and the scent of mildew, and the floorboards creaked beneath her feet, protesting against the intrusion. It was strange, this feeling, the sense that everything within these walls had been suspended in time. The house had been abandoned, but it hadn't been forgotten. It had simply been left to wither, as if the people who once lived here had no use for it anymore. Moni's heart quickened.

She could feel Lucian's presence here, in the very air around her. His memories were slipping through the walls like ghostly whispers, seeping into her mind. She closed her eyes for a moment, letting the flood of images overwork. her. She saw Lucian as a child, no older than ten, his face thin and drawn, his eyes wide with an innocence that had already been tainted by too many horrors. He stood at the foot of the stairs in the hallway, his small frame almost swallowed by the shadows of the house. He was waiting for someone, someone who never came. He had been abandoned here, left alone with relatives who had no love for him, only a bitter obligation to care for him. They kept their distance,

barely speaking to him, and when they did, it was in cold, dismissive tones. They had no time for a boy who had already seen too much, whose name was already cursed in the town's history. They saw him as nothing more than a reminder of the tragedy that had struck their family, a stain on their reputation. Lucian had learned to keep to himself, to disappear into the shadows. His existence here was as invisible as the walls that surrounded him. The relatives would go about their lives, ignoring him as if he were an afterthought. No one asked about his day. No one cared to listen to the silence that filled his room at night. He was a ghost, a lingering shadow that they could forget as easily as they could forget a name.

Moni felt the weight of that abandonment pressing down on her chest, as if she too were being suffocated by the very walls of the house. She could feel the coldness of the space, the oppressive loneliness that had followed Lucian like a shroud. She saw him, curled up in the corner of the attic, his small body trembling with the cold, his eyes staring into the darkness, waiting for something, anything, to change. But nothing ever did. The house offered no warmth, no refuge. It was a place that had no heart, a place where time itself seemed to stand still, trapped in the ghosts of all the lives that had passed through it. And as much as Lucian had tried to escape, he couldn't. The weight of his history, his pain, was too heavy to outrun.

It clung to him, wrapped itself around him like the very walls of this house, and no matter how hard he tried, he couldn't shake it. Money opened her eyes and found herself standing in the attic now, in the same place where Lucian had once hidden himself. The room was smaller than she had imagined, the low ceiling barely offering enough space to stand fully upright. The walls were lined with old furniture, covered in dust sheets that had long since turned yellow with age. The air was still, thick with the smell of mothballs and decay. There was a small window at the far end of the room, and Mone could see the faint glow of the setting sun through the grind-covered glass.

She could almost hear Lucian's footsteps, the faintest sound of a boy trying to make himself invisible, trying to disappear. The memories here were more vivid than ever before. She could almost see him in the corner, his short. shoulders hunched, his hands gripping the sleeves of his shirt as if the fabric was the only thing holding him together. And then, as if summoned by her thoughts, a new memory began to unfurl before her, like an ancient scroll being unrolled in the quiet of the attic. Mony saw the figure of a woman, Lucian's aunt, standing in the doorway, her face hard and unforgiving. Lucian

stood before her, his hands hanging limply at his sides, his expression one of resignation. The woman's voice was sharp, like the crack of a whip. You think you're better than this family, she spat. Look at you. You're nothing. You'll never be anything. Lucian's eyes dropped to the floor, and Moni could see the pain in his posture, the weight of her word settling on his shoulders like a boulder. The woman's scorn was a constant in his life,

an endless barrage of insults and dismissals, each one chipping away at his fragile sense of self. But the worst part wasn't her words. It was the silence that followed. The silence that filled the house after she left. Lucian was left alone, once more, with nothing but the shadows to keep him company. Moni's chest tightened. She could feel the cold in her bones, the suffocating silence that had strangled Lucian's spirit.

This house, this place, had become a tomb for his soul, a place where he had been forgotten, left to wither in the dark. it had taken everything from him leaving him with nothing but the echoes of words he couldn't escape and a future that seemed as dark as the shadows that had chased him she reached out to touch the walls to somehow connect with the sorrow that lingered in the air she could feel it then the weight of it all the crushing unrelenting sorrow that had shaped lucian into the man he would become this house had been his prison his burden and it would haunt him forever moni withdrew her hand the weight of his memories pressing on her like a stone in her chest she stepped back from the attic her heart heavy with the burden of what she had learned lucian's life had been more than just a series of tragic events it had been a slow painful unravelling a journey from innocence to bitterness from hope to despair but the story wasn't finished not yet she could feel it just beyond the shadows The truth was waiting, and Mone would find it. She would unravel the rest of the story, piece by piece, until Lucian's soul was finally free. But for now, all she could do was walk away from the house of forgotten shadows, knowing that

Lucian's pain would never be left behind, never fully escaped. It would live on in the walls, in the silence, in the haunting memories that refused to fade, to be continued.