Story 927: The House of the Forsaken

The cabin stood at the edge of the forest, its windows dark, its wooden frame leaning like an old corpse. The sky above was bruised with storm clouds, and the stench of decay lingered in the damp air. Draven adjusted his grip on his shotgun, his eyes scanning the area. The others stood behind him—Mira, Elias, and Zara—each tense, each knowing this place was wrong.

“This house isn’t abandoned,” Mira murmured. Her fingers traced the edge of the Cursed Book, its pages twitching as if sensing something waiting inside.

Elias exhaled, rolling his shoulders. “Then let’s knock.”

The door creaked open on its own, revealing a hallway stretching into unnatural darkness. The scent of mold and blood hung in the air. As they stepped inside, the wooden floor groaned under their weight. Shadows flickered along the walls, shifting like something alive.

Zara paused, her blades at the ready. "We shouldn't be here."

"Agreed," Draven muttered. "But we need answers."