darting to the doorway from which the sound had come, while Lily clenched the strange key she had found, its cold metal biting into her palm. The

e. "We shouldn't be here. Jak

itement. "You saw the painting, Lily. The face moved. That's

ercing gaze had shifted, watching her with an intelligence she didn't want to believe in. She wanted to argue, to dem

er her breath. She stuffed the strange k

them, though each time Lily stopped to listen, the house fell silent again. When they reached the end of the hallway, J

s isn't just some abandoned house. Ther

ith shelves lined with books and faded journals. Dust hung in the air, illuminated by weak beams of light f

its leather cover cracked and brittle. Flipping through the pages, he squinted at the handwritt

bleeding into the yellowed pages. The entries spoke of the house's construction, of it

felt a chill creep up her spine as she read the final entry: "The hou

d to stop reading this. Whatever they

t don't you see? This is why we're here. We have

em up gingerly, her fingers brushing off the thin layer of dust. The photos showed the mansion in its prime: a grand estate with

the figures were blurred, their faces smeared and distorted as though they were screaming.

tly, holding up the p

s he studied the image. "That's... n

her again, the same sensation she'd had in the parlor. "I don't think this

om, extinguishing the weak light from the window. The air grew thick and

ike unseen predators. Lily clutched Jake's arm, he

arm, and together they ran back into the hallway. The house seemed to shift around them

into the overgrown yard, the oppressive weight lifted

spread out on the table between them. Jake was poring over the journal, flipping through t

ily-they believed the house was cursed. They wrote about strange events, about how people vanished inside the mansion,

r voice trembling. "And

hout a trace. The servants refused to enter the house, and the local authorities

o the rumors were

re's more," he said, his voice soft. "The house wasn't just cursed. It was bound to something. Somethi

e saying the house... it's al

but the look in hi

was heavy, each lost in their own thoughts after the revelations from the journal. The air outside the car felt heavier

s not to lead them straight into trouble. Her thoughts raced as the mansion loomed ahead, its dark silhouette rising like a phantom out of the mist. She could fe

uch was filled with what the shopkeeper had called "protection herbs," a mix of rosemary, bay leaves, and something Jake hadn't recognized. Lily

king the silence. Her voice was calm, b

to know what's really going on in there. That journal... it barely scra

tone sharp, "we'll end up

e car's headlights illuminated the front entrance, casting long, jagged shadows across the cracked stone steps. The boarded-up windows se

led. The air was unnaturally still, and even the usual night sounds of crickets and distant

t into the night. "Let's get this over

flashlight tightly, her other hand instinctively brushing against the pocket where she'd stashed the

usty scent of decay seemed stronger, more pungent. Lily's flashlight cut through the darkness, revealing the grand hallway once again. The fade

," Lily said firmly, glancin

s expression so

wood settling beneath their weight. But there was something else-faint sounds, just on the edge of hearing. A soft tapping, a distant whisp

He unpacked the sage and the leather pouch, setting them beside the journal and photographs they had brought back

he lid was closed, but as she stared at it, she could have sworn she heard a single, soft no

, frowning.

was barely a whisper. "

back at her. "Maybe it's the w

lse quickening. She gripped the flashli

r breath visible in the air. The shadows cast by the flashlight seemed to move, stretching and shiftin

en it

the floor. Slow, deliberate, and unnervingly steady. Lily's eyes darted upward, but the ce

d, her voice trembli

ew louder, closer. It moved across the ceiling, then down the wa

ly held her breath, her grip on the flashlight so tight her knuckles ached.

w, guttural whisper. A single word, spoken in a voic

d to light the sage, the faint scent of burning herbs filling the room. The shadows reco

s were locked on the corner of the room, where the whisper ha

d by something much more cautious. "Let's h

r nerves frayed and her instincts screaming at her to run. As they ascended the creaking steps, the hou

d begun, and neither of them was