3

The foyer was enormous, far bigger than I expected. The ceilings stretched so high I could barely make out the top, lost in shadow. There was a grand staircase right in the center, winding its way up to the second floor like something out of a gothic painting. The banisters were carved with intricate designs, delicate spirals that looked as though they’d been crafted by a master long ago. But now they were worn, covered in a thick layer of dust that made the whole place feel... forgotten.Spider webs stretched across the corners of the room, some of them so thick and dense that they looked like lace curtains. They draped from the chandelier overhead—an enormous piece with countless crystals that should have sparkled but were now dull and clouded with dirt. A few of the crystals had fallen, their shattered remains scattered on the floor beneath.

The walls were lined with faded wallpaper that must have been beautiful once, but now it was peeling, curling at the edges like dead skin. Portraits hung crookedly on the walls—stern faces, cold and lifeless, staring down at me as if they were judging our intrusion. The frames were tarnished gold, and the eyes of the figures seemed to follow me wherever I moved. I shivered, tearing my gaze away.

“This place is amazing!” Liam’s voice echoed through the vast space as he ran his fingers along a dusty table. “Can you believe it’s just been sitting here like this?”

I couldn’t answer him. All I could do was stare, my eyes tracing the lines of the grand staircase, the walls, the chandeliers, trying to take it all in. The mansion was beautiful in its own way, but it was the kind of beauty that made me uneasy. It felt too still, like the house was waiting for something.

Cobwebs covered everything—looping over doorframes, draping from the banisters, clinging to the intricate crown molding at the ceiling’s edge. Some of the webs were so thick they seemed almost intentional, like someone had spun them to trap unwelcome guests. I didn’t dare touch them. The mere thought of brushing against those sticky strands made my skin crawl.

I moved closer to the grand staircase, my footsteps soft on the marble floor, though the sound still echoed in the vast emptiness. There was a chill in the air, deeper than the cold outside, as if the house itself was breathing down my neck. I tried to shake the feeling, but it clung to me, settling in the pit of my stomach.

Above the fireplace at the far end of the room hung the largest portrait of all. It was of a man, stern and imposing, his eyes piercing and sharp, though his face held a faint smile that didn’t reach his eyes. I could feel his gaze on me even when I looked away, as if he was watching us with some hidden intent.

“This is unreal,” Liam whispered, his voice full of awe as he stood beside me, staring up at the grand chandelier. “Can you imagine what it must’ve been like back in its prime?”

I couldn’t imagine it. The house felt too full of shadows and secrets. Every inch of it seemed to whisper of something long forgotten, something that didn’t belong to our world anymore.

I swallowed hard, glancing toward the staircase again. The second floor stretched out above us in dark, endless hallways, with closed doors that seemed to hold more than just dust and cobwebs behind them.

“This place is huge,” I finally said, my voice barely a whisper.

Liam just grinned, taking a few more steps forward. “Come on. Let’s check it out upstairs.”

I didn’t want to go. I wanted to turn around, leave the mansion behind, and never look back. But Liam was already heading for the staircase, his excitement pulling him forward, and I couldn’t let him go alone. I mean, I will certainly be scared being left behind.

As I followed him up the creaking stairs, I couldn’t shake the feeling that something was watching us. Not just the portraits on the walls, but something... else. Something that was part of the mansion itself, woven into the spider webs and hidden in the shadows.

The stairs groaned under our weight as we ascended, each creak echoing through the hollow mansion. I clung to the banister, running my hand along the carved wood that was slick with dust, trying to ground myself. The air was even colder up here, and the smell of damp and decay was stronger. It was like walking into the heart of a long-dead beast.

We reached the landing, where the hall split off into several directions. Dark corridors stretched before us, lined with closed doors that seemed to go on forever. The wood floors beneath our feet creaked ominously, as if warning us not to go any further.

Liam, of course, ignored it. He moved ahead, peering into one of the open doorways. “Check this out,” he called over his shoulder.

I reluctantly followed, stepping into what must have once been a bedroom. The walls were lined with faded wallpaper, floral patterns long eaten away by time. An enormous four-poster bed stood in the center, draped with what remained of moth-eaten curtains. The bed itself was still made, the covers yellowed and stiff with age, as though whoever had slept there had left in a hurry and never returned.

A large wardrobe stood against the far wall, its doors slightly ajar. I half-expected something to jump out of it—a rat, a bird, maybe even a ghost. But there was nothing, just the eerie stillness that clung to everything in this house. Dust motes danced in the pale light from the window, disturbed only by our presence.

“This place is straight out of a horror movie,” Liam said, grinning as he walked over to the wardrobe and pulled it open wider. It creaked, a long, mournful sound, revealing nothing but empty shelves. “Kinda creepy, huh?”