Xawier had ventured into an abandoned mansion, driven by a mix of reckless curiosity and a subtle, creeping sense of unease.
The silence inside was heavy, like the air hadn’t been disturbed for decades. Dust clung to the air, and the floorboards groaned with each careful step he took. Yet something deeper compelled him forward—perhaps the thrill of the unknown, or the hope of discovering something lost to time.

What he didn’t know was that he wasn’t alone. And he would soon find that out.

As he walked down a dim, narrow hallway, his eyes caught a faint light spilling out from beneath a closed door.
He froze in place, heart thudding against his ribs. For a moment, he just stared at the golden line of light, trying to decide whether to turn back or press on.
Then, with a breath of false courage, he stepped forward. His hand grasped the cold handle and, with a firm tug, he pulled it open. The door swung wide with a jarring creak, throwing a sharp beam of light into the dusty dark and stirring the stagnant air into a slow swirl.

And there he stood—frozen in place, eyes wide, unable to process what he was seeing beyond the threshold.