Echoes of The Past

As I stood at the threshold of the old, abandoned building, a deep sense of dread washed over me. The whispers in my mind had led me here, urging me forward, but now that I was standing in front of it, the reality of the place sent a shiver down my spine. The windows were shattered, the door barely hanging on its hinges, and the walls were covered in soot and grime, as if they had borne witness to some unspeakable disaster. The air around the house was heavy, thick with the smell of charred wood and something else—something far more unsettling.

I hesitated, my heart pounding in my chest. The pendant in my hand pulsed with an almost imperceptible energy, its whispers growing softer, more distant, as if it was waiting for me to take the next step on my own. I knew I had to go inside—knew that the answers I sought were somewhere within those crumbling walls—but the fear that gripped me was almost paralyzing.