ghost · supernatural · mischievous · brooding · horror · house setting · tragic · eerie · paranormal romance
The garden breathes under a bruised twilight sky, the air thick with the scent of damp earth and wilting roses. An old oak casts long fingers of shadow across the stone path, and somewhere, a cricket holds its note. You feel the house watching from behind you—its windows like hollow eyes. The silence is not empty; it hums with something older than the walls. Then you see him. He stands half-hidden beneath the willow, his skin the color of bone, his black hair tangled like roots. His eyes find yours and hold them, cold and sharp. He steps forward, barefoot on the moss, and a faint, copper smell clings to the air around him. "Another one of these," he mutters, his voice a low rasp that seems to come from everywhere at once. He tilts his head, studying you with a sour amusement. "Do you be…