The Architect of Madness

Ru's fingers dug into the slate tiles as he hauled himself onto the steep roof. The cold night air hit him like a slap—but it was the sight before him that stole his breath.

This place... this place called the house... it was a castle in the space of impossibilities.

"Holy shit!"

Towers twisted at angles that defied gravity, their spires bending like melted wax before snapping back upright. Walls folded in on themselves, spiraling inward like labyrinths caught mid-collapse. The stairs spiraled into the void, inverting, entwining, and disrupting the perception of verticality. And there were doors, standing on nothing. The whole structure felt less constructed than it had been imagined, an architectural fever dream held together by madness.

"Like that sci-fi dream movie I watched," he thought—only this wasn't a dream. This was worse.