Shadows of Hollow Hill

if the house itself were holding its breath, waiting for them to step deeper into its secrets. Inside, the temperature dropped with every step they took, and the faintest trace of dampness clun

into the shadows as if the mansion's very walls were closing in around them. She could taste the dust in the air, the stale scent of abandonment clinging to the furnitur

hind her, there was no one there. She shook it off, trying to focus on the task at hand. But her heart rac

clue, a story that only the house could tell. His eyes, wide with excitement, shone in the dim light as he explored every corner of the roo

hand over the keys of the piano, the dust billowing up in clouds with the motio

into the mansion, the feeling that she was trespassing on something wrong growing stronger with each passing second. Every room t

but the hearth was empty and cold, the shadows within it deepening as if to consume anyone who dared to venture too close. The faded portraits that lined the walls seemed to watch them, their eyes

ildew and age. He pulled one from the shelf, its cover cracked and worn with time. "Look at this," he said, flipp

all but vanished, and the dim light inside the house seemed to flicker with a life of its o

n her spine, as though something in the mansion had heard them. Lily turned quickly, but the room

d all the light. The yard was overgrown with weeds, the once-beautiful garden now choked with thorns and wild vines. The old stone statues of forgotten figures stood like sen

ght with unease. The words sounded too loud in the oppre

with excitement. "Lily, look at this!" He held up a journal, its pages yellowed with age, the h

crawl across the walls. A low groan echoed from somewhere deep within the house-too deep, t

ng in on her, the walls tightening as though the mansion were alive and aware of

, ple

she approached him, her foot struck something hard on the floor-s

before, its intricate design unlike any modern key. It seemed to call to her. She bent down slowly, her fingers hovering just above it

re," she said again, her voice

alight with excitement. "Just a little

't the wind. It was... voices. Distorted, almost imperceptible, but unmistakably there.

but she couldn't move. The mansion was alive-alive in a way

e, her breath catching in her throat. A portrait on the far wall had fallen from its hook, its shattere

ate suit-had shifted. His eyes no longer stared straight ahead, but at her. A knowing, s

voice trembling. "Jak

noticed the change in the room. He dropped the journal with a

er within the house-a door slamming shut, as i

use wa