Ch 3
The blood-like strain on the floor pulsed, thick and alive. Adrian staggered back, his chest tightening as the air grew heavy with the stench of iron.
Adrian
(shaking) What... what is that?
Lucien didn't answer. His gaze remained fixed on the strain, jaw clenched, eyes darker than before.
The floor suddenly split open with a shriek. Black hands-twisted, skeletal-crawled up from the void, clawing at the air.
Adrian cried out, stumbling against the wall. The hands reached for him, their nails scraping the floorboards.
His figure blurred, faster than Adrian could track, and he stood between Adrian and the thing clawing its way out of the house's belly. His voice was sharp, commanding:
The shadows recoiled as though burned. The hands trembled, then retreated into the floor. The boards sealed shut, leaving only silence.
Adrian flashlight flickered back to life. He was shaking.
Adrian
What the hell was that?
Lucien turned slowly, his face calm but his eyes... tired. Haunted.
Lucien
This house isn't empty. It hungers. It remembers.
Adrian swallowed, trying to steady his breath
Adrian
And you... you're part of it?
Lucien's expression hardened.
Lucien
Leave, Adrian. Do not come back.
The way he said Adrian's name-low, heavy, almost protective - sent a strange shiver through him.
But before he could answer, Lucien was gone again. Vanished like mist in sunlight.
Adrian was left alone in the silence. Alone... but with one truth burning inside him:
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