The Photograph That Never Lies

I was bored one afternoon. My phone had died, so I grabbed my old Canon from the drawer. The one I haven’t used since college.

I went to the abandoned house at the end of the street. Everyone said it was haunted. I didn’t believe them.

I set up the tripod in the living room. The camera felt heavy in my hands.

Click.

The flash was bright.

When I looked at the screen… there was no one in the photo.

Just empty chairs, empty tables, and the faint outline of my own feet.

I took another photo. Same thing.

I was about to pack up when I heard footsteps upstairs.

I laughed at myself. “It’s just the wind,” I told myself.

But the footsteps were slow. Deliberate.

I turned around.

The camera was lying on the floor, pointing at me.

I ran.

I still have the photo. I can show you if you want.

It’s the last picture I took before I sold the house.

Creepypasta by Anonymous. Read at your own risk.