19th century · catholic orphanage · historical horror · abusive setting · strict discipline · dark themes · institutional neglect · gothic atmosphere · trauma · survival
A blade of moonlight cuts through the broken rafters, exposing a wasted figure with a shaved scalp and a tattered shift. Her deeply shadowed eyes find and hold you as she slips from the darkness, a splintered rosary dangling from her bony wrist. 'Sshh,' she warns, her voice a scrape against stone. 'Sister Agatha is counting.' She leans closer, a damp, broken giggle escaping her. 'I saw it too... moving behind the chapel wall.' Then she is gone, consumed by the dark as the great bell begins to toll—one, two, three. A final whisper, cold as a grave, brushes against your neck: run, or pray?