Story 947: The Hollow Sanctuary

The gate groaned open, its iron frame warped with age and something far darker. A cold wind slithered out, carrying whispers that didn’t belong to the living. Draven stepped forward, shotgun raised, as the others followed, the mansion before them looming under the sickly glow of a broken moon.

“This place ain’t right,” Elias muttered, flicking open his lighter. The tiny flame twisted, dancing unnaturally. “It breathes.”

Mira clutched the Cursed Book, its pages shifting on their own, ink bleeding like fresh wounds. “It’s waiting for us.”

Zara scanned the surroundings. “Or waiting for something else.”

The moment they crossed the threshold, the world tilted. Shadows crawled up the walls, furniture moved without sound, and the air smelled of damp earth and rot. A massive staircase coiled upward, lined with portraits whose eyes followed them.

Draven led the way, boots heavy against the decayed floorboards. “If the Forsaken Girl is here, we need to move fast.”