Story 913: Shadows of the Forsaken

The ruined mansion stood against the night, its twisted iron gates yawning open as if inviting them in. Beyond its crumbling walls, flickering lights glowed from shattered windows, casting long shadows on the overgrown courtyard.

Mira hesitated at the entrance, gripping the cursed book tightly. It burned against her palm like a living thing. Draven stood beside her, shotgun ready, while Elias Grimm took a slow sip from his flask, unbothered by the dread seeping from the house.

"You feel that?" Draven muttered.

Elias nodded. "Yeah. House has a heartbeat."

The wind howled through the hollow remains of the building. The dead air carried whispers, voices of things long gone—or things that never truly left.

Mira stepped forward. “We need to move.”

They pushed through the gate, boots crunching on dried leaves and brittle bones. The house loomed taller as they approached, the moonlight warping its shape, making it seem to shift and breathe.