The Haunted House

Previously

…“Alright,” he said, his voice tight. “But we stick together. And we don’t split up. No matter what.” He picked up the brass poker, its weight a small comfort in his trembling hand. As they moved towards the stairs, a faint, chilling whisper seemed to slither through the air, a sound that was both everywhere and nowhere at once. It spoke a single word, a word that echoed in the depths of their souls, a word that promised an eternity of torment: “Mine.”