Full Story:
Emily Carter was always the curious one. A small-town journalist who loved late-night walks to clear her mind — and dig for secrets. On July 7th, she left her friend’s birthday party a little past midnight, choosing to take the shortcut through Blackwood Alley — a narrow, poorly lit path behind an old factory, notorious for urban legends and whispered rumors.
As Emily stepped onto the damp cobblestone path, her phone buzzed. It was an anonymous text: “Don’t look back.” She paused, her breath catching in her throat. She laughed nervously, brushing it off as a prank — until she heard it: footsteps. Slow. Heavy. Matching hers.
She spun around — no one. Just shadows shifting behind trash bins and the rustling of leaves. She picked up her pace. The footsteps quickened too.
She dialed her best friend, Jess, but it went straight to voicemail. Desperate, she hit record on her phone’s camera and held it tight in her shaking hand, pointing it behind her as she walked faster.
A low growl echoed. She turned the corner, her flashlight catching a glint of metal — a knife? Her phone slipped from her trembling fingers. The last frame captured the silhouette of a man in a hooded coat, standing inches away.
Her scream cut through the night. And then — silence.
The next morning, Detective Harris arrived at the scene. The only clue: Emily’s phone, screen cracked, battery clinging to life. When they played the video back, they saw a blurry figure — and heard a single word whispered before the screen went black: “Run.”
Locals say Blackwood Alley holds more than one secret. Some believe Emily stumbled upon something she shouldn’t have — a hidden deal, an unspoken truth, or maybe someone’s darkest sin.
To this day, her body has never been found. But every year, on July 7th, someone leaves a single red rose at the entrance of Blackwood Alley — and those who pass by swear they still hear footsteps behind them.
Do you dare walk through Blackwood Alley at night?
Some secrets should stay buried…