You awake to cold stone beneath your hands and the distant sound of rain. Shadows stretch across the room, unnaturally long, moving as though alive in the dim, flickering light from a lone, dusty bulb overhead. The walls around you are lined with peeling wallpaper, stained with dark patches that look suspiciously like dried blood. Somewhere in the distance, you hear faint whispers—too soft to understand but unmistakably human. Or so you hope.

A chill runs through you as you notice an open doorway across the room, leading deeper into what appears to be an old, forgotten mansion. Fragments of memory flicker in your mind, but nothing you can grab onto. You’re alone, stranded in a place that feels both alien and hauntingly familiar.

On the floor next to you lies a crumpled note, written in hurried, frantic handwriting: “Don’t let the house get to you. Stay quiet. Trust only yourself.”

The house creaks and groans as if shifting around you, almost… watching.