THE ENTRANCE

BACK

You step inside the manor. Inside the haunted manor, the air is dense with a suffocating humidity that feels heavy against the skin, mingling with the musty scent of decay. The dim light flickers erratically, casting long, twisted shadows that dance ominously across the peeling wallpaper, revealing glimpses of long-forgotten patterns and faces that seem to watch you with hollow eyes.

To the left, the hauntingly red door stands ajar, its surface warped and cracked, whispering tales of blood and despair to anyone brave enough to venture closer. Its rusty hinges groan quietly, as if protesting the very idea of being disturbed. Beyond the door, the faint scent of something charred lingers, a reminder of past horrors waiting to be uncovered.

On the right, a pale blue door looms, its edges frayed and chipped-a contrast to the oppressive darkness that envelopes the room. A chilling breeze seeps through the gap, carrying with it an echo of soft, melancholic whispers. It beckons you like a siren's call, promising secrets of the manor's tragic history lurking just beyond its threshold.

In front of you, a grand staircase rises steeply, the dark wood polished yet slick with dust that seems resistant to the touch. The banister twists up into the shadows, the second floor shrouded in mystery and obscured secrets. As you gaze up, the silence amplifies your heartbeat, each creak of the boards underfoot feels like a spectral acknowledgment, urging you to choose a path.

Whispers of long-lost souls thread through the air-each beckoning you deeper into the manor's sinister embrace, as you stand trapped by the chilling uncertainty of what lies ahead.