With every step I take back, I can feel my heart starting to race, beating against my chest like a trapped animal desperately longing for its freedom. The father figure's unsettling gaze seems to penetrate my very soul, leaving me feeling exposed and vulnerable. His eyes, a haunting shade of gray, hold a depth of darkness that sends shivers down my spine. I try to steady my trembling voice as I respond, “Yes, I'm Jazz. Who are you?” My words come out in a whisper, barely audible over the cacophony of screams and cries that continue to echo through the house. The air feels heavy with tension, as if the very walls are holding their breath, waiting for something ominous to unfold. The father figure's lips curl into a sinister smile, revealing a row of yellowed teeth that seem to belong to a predator. “I am Juan,” he replies, his voice dripping with a chilling mix of authority and malice. “Welcome to your new home, Jazz.” My mind races, desperately trying to make sense of the situati
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