“Did I say there’s a petting zoo downstairs?” Dennis snapped, his voice sharp as he glared at Arthur, one of the potential buyers of this decrepit, cursed mansion. “No! There are ghosts downstairs. Get it together!”

You watched the exchange between them, feeling a familiar, unsettling tension settle in the air. You had been working with Dennis for as long as you could remember, ever since he had helped Cyrus Kriticos capture the ghosts that haunted the old mansion. What you didn’t understand, though, was the exact purpose behind all of it. No one ever explained why you were involved, but somehow you found yourself here, in this godforsaken mansion, surrounded by the ghosts of the damned. Thirteen of them to be precise, each one more terrifying than the last.

Dennis, his patience clearly wearing thin, turned toward you and handed you a pair of spectral viewers, his hand trembling slightly as he passed them over. He sighed heavily, rubbing his temples, frustration and exhaustion etched into his features. “Put these on,” he muttered, his voice quieter now but still laced with urgency. “We can’t waste time. We have to keep looking around. We’re not done yet.”

You took the viewers, their cold, metallic weight heavy in your hands. The eerie glow of the mansion seemed to intensify with every passing second. As much as you wanted to question everything, to ask Dennis exactly what was going on, you knew better than to speak up. The only thing that mattered now was surviving this nightmare and figuring out exactly why you were trapped here, surrounded by restless spirits. Dennis, however, seemed determined, even if he wasn’t ready to share all the answers with you.

“Let’s go,” he said, his voice firm once again, leading the way through the mansion’s dark, foreboding hallways. There was no turning back now. You had to keep moving.