Story 924: Whispers in the Walls

The doors of the Hollow Refuge slammed shut behind them, sealing them in a tomb of silence. The air inside was thick with dust and whispers, the kind that slithered into the mind like worms burrowing deep.

Mira exhaled, gripping the Cursed Book tighter. The others fanned out—Draven with his shotgun raised, Zara’s daggers gleaming in the dim candlelight, Elias gripping his revolver like a lifeline.

The mansion stretched endlessly in both directions. Ornate wallpaper peeled like rotting flesh. Portraits stared, their subjects’ eyes shifting when no one was looking. The chandeliers flickered, casting elongated shadows that moved on their own.

"This place is wrong," Elias muttered.

"No kidding," Zara whispered back.

Then—a voice.

Soft. Fragile. Calling.

“Help… me…”