Story 903: House of the Undying

Draven slammed the rusted door shut behind them, his breath ragged. The fog clawed at the windows, pressing against the rotted wood like a living thing. Mira collapsed against a dusty bookshelf, her fingers trembling as she reloaded her pistol.

"That thing…" she panted. "The Hollow Man… it's hunting us."

Draven scanned the dimly lit room. The house smelled of mildew and decay, its walls lined with tattered portraits whose eyes seemed to follow them. "We need to keep moving," he said. "If we stay here too long, we’re dead."

A sudden thud echoed from upstairs.

Mira’s fingers tightened around her weapon. "We’re not alone."

Draven motioned for silence. He crept forward, his shotgun raised, stepping cautiously across the creaking floorboards. At the base of the staircase, he hesitated. The air was thick with the scent of rot, and the shadows at the top of the stairs seemed deeper than they should have been.

Then, a whisper: "Welcome home."