Story 911: The Cursed Tome

Darkness swallowed the collapsing manor as Mira clutched the flesh-bound book to her chest. The world around her warped, shadows stretching unnaturally, pulling her and Draven into an abyss of whispering voices.

Then—impact.

Mira gasped, her fingers scraping against cold stone. A dim orange glow flickered ahead. Draven groaned beside her, shotgun still in hand.

They were no longer in Lockwood Manor.

They were in a catacomb.

Rows of skeletal remains lined the walls, some still bound in ancient burial cloths, others propped against cracked tombstones. The book in Mira’s grasp shivered, its pages turning by themselves.

Draven leaned closer, jaw clenched. “What does it say?”

Mira’s voice was barely a whisper. “A spell of resurrection… and servitude.”

The pages pulsed with burning runes, inked in something darker than mere blood.

Then came the first breath.