Echoes of the Forgotten
The air in the old Victorian house was thick with the scent of mildew and decay. Josh stood at the entrance, a flashlight in one hand, his heart pounding in his chest. He had always been drawn to abandoned places, curious about the stories they held within their crumbling walls. But this house was different. There were whispers about it in town, tales of people who had ventured in and never returned. Josh dismissed them as mere superstition—until now. As he stepped inside, the door creaked shut behind him, the sound echoing through the empty hallways. He took a deep breath and ventured further, the beam of his flashlight slicing through the darkness. The floorboards groaned under his weight, each step sending a shiver down his spine. He reached the grand staircase, its wooden balustrades intricately carved with faces twisted in agony. A chill ran down his spine as he felt eyes on him, though he knew he was alone. He shook off the feeling and climbed the stairs, drawn to a room at the