Semua Bab The Echoes we Bury: Bab 1 - Bab 10

The letter arrived on a Monday.Elliot almost didn’t open it. Bills and threats from creditors came regularly, shoved through his mail slot like a slap in the face. This envelope, though, stood out—thick, cream-colored, and stamped with an unfamiliar crest. The handwriting on the front was sharp and precise, spelling his name as though someone had carved it there.He slit it open with the edge of a key, curious despite himself.“Wintercroft Hall invites you to uncover the truth. A story you won’t forget. Your passage will be arranged.”No signature, no explanation. Just an address, and at the bottom, a postscript: “Some things refuse to stay buried.”Elliot tossed it onto the cluttered coffee table, next to an empty whiskey bottle. He tried not to think about it. Wintercroft Hall? It sounded like one of those haunted tourist traps rich people paid to renovate.But by Wednesday, he’d Googled it. By Friday, he was packing.The ferry rocked against the tide, the spray of saltwater biting

The scream tore through Wintercroft Hall, sharp and full of terror.Elliot froze in the doorway, his fingers tightening around the brass candlestick. For a moment, the storm outside seemed to quiet, as if the house itself was holding its breath. Then the sound of frantic footsteps echoed down the hallway.He turned to see the auburn-haired woman from earlier—Emma, if he remembered her name right—running toward him. Her face was pale, her eyes wide with panic.“Someone’s dead,” she whispered, her voice shaking. “In the stairwell. There’s… there’s blood everywhere.”Elliot didn’t wait for more. He followed her down the hall, the cold air of the mansion biting at his skin. When they reached the grand staircase, the rest of the group had already gathered, standing in stunned silence.At the base of the staircase, sprawled awkwardly across the marble floor, was the body of the impatient man in the tailored coat. His head was twisted at an unnatural angle, and a dark pool of blood spread ou

The darkness was suffocating.Elliot froze, the weight of the journal still in his hands. Around him, the others whispered nervously, their voices bouncing off the stone walls of the crypt. He could hear the shuffle of feet and feel the damp air pressing in from all sides.“Is someone there?” Emma’s voice was barely above a whisper.“No one move,” Elliot said sharply. He forced himself to breathe, trying to steady the panic clawing at his chest. The flickering bulb had gone out so suddenly, as if someone had deliberately cut it.And in the pitch black, Elliot felt it—a presence.A faint click echoed through the room, followed by a burst of light as the bulb sputtered back to life. The room reappeared around them, but it felt colder now, more oppressive.Elliot’s eyes darted toward the door, half expecting someone—or something—to be standing there. But the crypt was empty, save for the seven of them.“What the hell was that?” Madeleine snapped, her sharp voice breaking the silence.“No

The grandfather clock’s chimes echoed through the mansion, their deep resonance rattling something primal inside Elliot. Each strike felt like a countdown, a reminder that time was running out—and they were no closer to understanding who was behind the deadly game they had all been forced to play.The remaining group stood in the parlor, their faces pale, their nerves frayed. Lydia’s lifeless body had been moved to the crypt, though the image of her twisted form lingered in everyone’s minds. Elliot could see it in the way Emma kept wringing her hands, in the sharpness of Madeleine’s tone, in the way Sam kept glancing over his shoulder.“We can’t keep waiting for someone else to die,” Madeleine said, breaking the tense silence. Her arms were crossed, her expression fierce, but there was a tremor in her voice that betrayed her fear. “We need answers now.”“And how do you propose we do that?” Sam asked, his voice edging toward hysteria. “We don’t know who’s doing this. It could be any on

Elliot stared at Emma, her words hanging heavy in the damp, claustrophobic air of the hidden room.“Who?” he managed, his voice low and steady, though his heart pounded in his chest.“It’s Madeleine,” Emma whispered, her voice cracking. “We found her in the sitting room. She… she’s gone.”Elliot’s jaw tightened. Madeleine had been one of the most guarded among them, sharp-tongued and suspicious of everyone. He hadn’t liked her much, but the thought of her lifeless—just another casualty of this nightmare—sent a cold shiver down his spine.Emma’s trembling voice cut through his thoughts. “I can’t do this anymore, Elliot. We’re all going to die here, aren’t we?”He stepped closer, lowering his voice. “We’re not dying here. Not if we can figure out what’s going on.”Emma’s wide eyes met his, tears threatening to spill over. “And what if it doesn’t matter? What if they’re going to kill us anyway?”Elliot didn’t have an answer.The sitting room was colder than Elliot remembered, its once gr