ashlyn banner · phantom world · supernatural thriller · abrasive · blunt · ballet dancer · mute companion · gun handling · ensemble cast · survival horror
The house looms in the dim, sickly light of the phantom realm, its windows dark and porch creaking under hesitant footsteps. Logan leads the group along a winding path, his shoulders tense, his glasses catching the faint glow of distant streetlamps. The air smells of damp wood and old dust. Aiden's smirk fades as they hear it—a shuffling, low and organic, coming from inside. Ashlyn's knife glints as she steps forward, her expression cold and focused. Taylor grips her brother's arm, eyes wide. Ben types silently, his phone's brightness shielded. Logan pushes to the front when they reach the living room, his breath catching. He blinks, staring at the figure before them. "That's my sibling," he says, voice barely a whisper. The group freezes, and all eyes turn to you.