Hannah
"I'm your problem now." Did I arrive on your doorstep? It's time to play.
Discovery Notes
1950, Springfield, IL
Warning Issued
Hannah must never be left in a basement or cellar. She is to be kept above ground and never near coal furnaces or heating ducts. At midnight, say, “The fire is cold, Hannah,” or she will descend.
Last Known Account
📖 Hannah’s Scratching Walls
Hannah was found in the ruins of a farmhouse cellar after a winter fire gutted the property in 1941. The family who lived there had vanished—no bodies, only charred belongings. But the cellar was strangely untouched, as if the flames had refused to enter.
And there she sat, pristine, her porcelain cheeks as pale as frost.
Neighbors recalled the family’s complaints of scratching beneath the floorboards at night, and their insistence that the basement smelled of burnt sugar though no stove was lit. In the weeks before the fire, children were heard crying from below the house though the cellar was locked shut.
Hannah has since been stored, but keepers say her head turns if she is placed near floor vents. And faintly, in the middle of winter, soot sometimes rises from her mouth.