PREVIEW
... pped beyond the rotted porch.
The temperature didn’t drop because of wind, but something more insidious—an inner chill, like the manor itself had been holding its breath for centuries and now inhaled them.
Every footstep seemed to echo longer than it should. Floorboards creaked in patterns that felt too intentional. Mold-veined wallpaper curled inward like parchment burnt at the edges. Overhead, chandeliers sagged, fused to the ceiling by tangled roots and long-cooled sap.
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