Before I could fully process the face in the photograph, a sudden metallic click echoed from the dark hallway behind me. My heart hammered wildly against my ribs as I spun around, clutching the brass key like a weapon against the impenetrable darkness.
A faint beam of light flickered down the corridor, cutting through the shadows and illuminating an open doorway at the very end. Someone—or something—was definitely moving around inside this supposedly abandoned house. 🔦
Every instinct screamed at me to run back to my car, to lock the doors and drive away from this nightmare forever. Yet, the memory of Frank’s desperate final plea anchored my feet to the floorboards.
Stepping cautiously toward the glowing doorway, I gripped the brass key tighter in my sweaty palm and braced myself for whatever was waiting inside. The air grew noticeably colder with every step I took closer to the mysterious room.
I pushed the partially ajar door open just an inch, peering through the gap into a space illuminated entirely by dozens of flickering candles. Sitting at an antique desk in the center of the room was a figure shrouded in a dark cloak. 🕯️ …. 👇
