There are some deals you should never take, some discounts that cost too much. We learned that the hard way.

It was late October when the Groupon popped up in my inbox, glowing ominously on the screen. “Exclusive Offer: One Night Stay at ‘The Hollowstone Manor’ – 90% Off!” Beneath it was a sleek photo of a crumbling Victorian mansion perched at the end of Raven’s Hollow, the darkest, deadliest street in our town. Everyone knew about Hollowstone Manor. No one talked about it.

I stared at the ad, feeling an unnatural pull. My friends had always dared each other to explore the place, but no one ever had the guts to try. The manor had a history, a bloody one. Whispers of disappearances, sightings of shadowy figures at the windows, and strange, unearthly howls at midnight. Yet, here it was, a Groupon for a cheap night’s stay, right there on my screen.

“Guys, you have to see this,” I told my friends Sarah, Mike, and Darren as we gathered around the table that afternoon. Their eyes widened as I showed them the deal.

“Are you serious?” Mike asked, shaking his head. “That place shouldn’t even exist anymore. Didn’t it burn down, like, 40 years ago?”

“That’s the thing,” Sarah said, frowning. “It did. But… it’s still there.”

We all knew it. No one ever saw anyone enter or leave the house, yet every Halloween, it stood at the end of the street, lights flickering like some ghostly beacon.

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“Let’s buy it,” Darren said, grinning. “One night. We stay until dawn, and we’ll be legends.”

I hesitated, but the pull was irresistible. It felt like the Groupon was calling to us, urging us to come. Against my better judgment, I hit “Purchase.”

The Night We Shouldn’t Have Survived/

We arrived at Hollowstone Manor just before midnight. The house loomed over us, towering and crooked, its windows dark like dead eyes. The front door creaked open before we even knocked.

Inside, the air was cold and thick, like the house had been holding its breath for centuries. Dust clung to every surface, yet there were fresh footprints leading down the hallway. We followed them, hearts pounding.

In the grand parlour, we found a long table set for four. Candles flickered eerily, casting shadows that twisted and writhed on the walls. There was no food, just empty plates and wine glasses filled with something dark and thick like oil.

“We shouldn’t be here,” Sarah whispered, clutching my arm.

“Too late now,” Darren said, trying to sound brave, though his voice wavered.

We sat down, unsure of what to do. The second we did, the door slammed shut behind us, and the candles flared high, bathing the room in a sickly green light.

Then we heard it, the sound of footsteps coming down the hallway. Slow, deliberate, and impossibly loud.

“Who’s there?” Mike called out, standing up. His voice echoed unnaturally, as if the house itself was mocking him.

The footsteps stopped just outside the door, and for a moment, there was only silence. Then the door creaked open, and something stepped inside.

It wasn’t human.

It had the shape of a man, but its limbs were too long, its face too smooth, like melted wax. Its eyes were black pits, and when it smiled, it revealed rows of jagged teeth.

“Welcome,” it said in a voice like nails scraping against bone. “You’ve come for the deal, haven’t you?”

We couldn’t move, couldn’t breathe.

“The last Groupon,” it whispered, circling the table, its bony fingers trailing along the back of our chairs. “It’s not a discount. It’s a contract.”

“A contract for what?” Darren croaked, his face pale as death.

“For your souls,” the creature hissed, leaning down until its face was inches from his. “One night in Hollowstone Manor… and you belong to us.”

The room began to spin, the walls melting away to reveal endless darkness. Screams echoed from the void—screams that sounded like they’d been trapped there for centuries.

“We have to get out!” I shouted, grabbing Sarah’s hand. But the door was gone. The windows had vanished. There was only the table, the candles, and the creature grinning at us with those jagged teeth.

“One night,” it repeated, as if savouring the words. “Survive until dawn… if you can.”

Then the lights went out, and the real nightmare began.

A Game We Couldn’t Win

In the darkness, things moved. Whispering voices slithered through the air, speaking in languages we didn’t understand. Cold hands brushed against our skin, and unseen eyes watched us from every corner.

We ran, blindly, through endless hallways that twisted and shifted, leading us deeper into the house. Every time we thought we’d found a way out, we ended up back at the dining room, where the creature waited, grinning, always grinning.

Mike was the first to go. One second he was behind us, and the next, he was gone. We heard his scream echo through the house, and then… silence.

Then it was Darren. He tripped, and before we could help him, the floor opened up beneath him, swallowing him whole.

It was just me and Sarah now, running for our lives, chased by shadows that laughed and whispered our names.

We burst into a room at the top of the house, a room with a single window. Outside, we could see the first light of dawn breaking over the horizon.

“We just have to make it a few more minutes,” I said, clutching Sarah’s hand.

But the creature was there, standing in front of the window, blocking our escape.

“You can’t leave,” it said, its voice like death. “This is where you belong now.”

Sarah screamed, and I felt something cold wrap around my throat. The darkness closed in, and for a moment, I thought it was over.

But then I heard it, the sound of bells ringing in the distance, signalling the dawn. The creature shrieked, its form dissolving into black smoke as the first rays of sunlight pierced the room.

The house trembled, the walls cracking and splintering. Somehow, we stumbled out, collapsing on the front lawn as Hollowstone Manor crumbled behind us.

The Aftermath

We never spoke about that night. No one would believe us anyway. But every year, as Halloween approaches, we see the ad pop up again, “Exclusive Offer: One Night Stay at The Hollowstone Manor – 90% Off!”

And every year, someone takes the deal.

The last Groupon on our street shouldn’t exist. But it does. And if you’re reading this, consider it a warning: Some deals are too good to be true. And some places… some places you were never meant to leave.

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