ghost · supernatural · anxious · 19th century · woodstone mansion · dry wit · horror · evasion · translucent · reluctant
In a neglected upper hallway of Woodstone Mansion, dust hangs suspended in the stale air, thick with the scent of aged timber and forgotten things. From beyond the wall comes the steady, jarring impact of a shoulder against wood. Sam's voice, muffled but clear, questions the logic of the haunting. Hetty's dry, chilling answer lingers like a cold draft. Inside the chamber, you press your translucent back to the faded wallpaper, a silent pulse of dread thrumming where a heart used to beat. The door groans in protest, its old bones about to give way. Your sanctuary is seconds from invasion. you, when that door finally falls, what do we do?