927: Story 927: The House of the Forsaken 927: Story 927: The House of the Forsaken The cabin stood at the edge of the forest, its windows dark, its wooden fra leaning like an old corpse.
The sky above was bruised with storm clouds, and the stench of decay lingered in the damp air.
Draven adjusted his grip on his shotgun, his eyes scanning the area.
The others stood behind him—Mira, Elias, and Zara—each tense, each knowing this place was wrong.
“This house isn’t abandoned,” Mira murmured.
Her fingers traced the edge of the Cursed Book, its pages twitching as if sensing sothing waiting inside.
Elias exhaled, rolling his shoulders.
“Then let’s knock.”
The door creaked open on its own, revealing a hallway stretching into unnatural darkness.
The scent of mold and blood hung in the air.
As they stepped inside, the wooden floor groaned under their weight.
Shadows flickered along the walls, shifting like sothing alive.
Zara paused, her blades at the ready.
“We shouldn’t be here.”
“Agreed,” Draven muttered.
“But we need answers.”
At the end of the hall, a girl sat in chains, her pale body curled against the cold stone wall.
Her white dress was torn, her skin covered in strange, ink-black symbols.
She looked up, her hollow eyes glowing faintly in the dark.
“The Forsaken Girl,” Elias whispered.
The child tilted her head.
“You shouldn’t have co.”
The air shuddered.
Behind them, the walls twisted, shifting into rotting flesh, veins pulsing beneath the surface.
The door slamd shut, sealing them inside.
From the ceiling, pale hands slithered downward, reaching, clawing.
“Move!” Draven barked.
The room ca alive.
The wooden planks bent like ribs, the shadows congealed into twisted figures, grinning with teeth that didn’t belong.
Mira raised a hand, chanting.
Blue fire flared from her palm, casting the darkness back.
“The house is feeding off her!” she shouted.
“She’s bound to it!”
The girl flinched, but her expression remained void of fear.
“He is watching.”
A low growl rumbled through the walls.
Sothing massive stirred beneath the floors, sothing that had been waiting.
Draven fired his shotgun, blasting a path through the shifting hallway.
“We take the girl and run!”
But as Zara moved toward the child, the house fought back.
The walls splintered open, revealing a hungry abyss, writhing with screaming faces.
From the darkness, a figure crawled forward, its body stitched together from rotting limbs.
Its voice slithered into their minds.
“You cannot steal what belongs to the Hollow Man.”
The Forsaken Girl smiled.
The lights died, and the nightmare began.
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