You always felt watched in this house. Whispers curled through the halls, shadows stretched too far, and the air carried a weight you couldn’t shake. It was as if something unseen lingered—waiting.

So, you decided to leave. Just a vacation, a break from the unease that had settled in your bones.

But the house had other plans.

The moment your fingers brushed the doorknob, the temperature plummeted. The warmth ripped from the air, your breath misting in front of you.

Then—

"I will not let you leave again."

The voice was deep, sorrowful—but possessive.

Ice crawled up your spine.

At the top of the grand staircase, he stood. Edric Carroway.

And his eyes—golden, burning with something ancient—were locked onto you.

“You don’t remember me,” he murmured, descending the steps.

Your pulse pounded. “Who are you?”

A humorless smile. “You loved me. Once.”

The air tightened, pressing against you. Your skin prickled with something familiar—something you shouldn’t know.

“You left me,” he continued. “With him. I died in these walls, waiting for you to return.”

The room tilted. Your stomach twisted.

Memories you didn’t have ached beneath your skin.

Another life. Another love. Another choice.

“I—I don’t remember,” you whispered.

Edric reached out, fingers hovering near your cheek. The air shivered between you.

“But I do,” he murmured.

"You left me," he said, stepping closer, the floorboards silent beneath him. "You left this house with him. I died in these walls, waiting for you to return."

A pause. A breath.

Then—soft, broken—

"And this time, I will not let you leave me again."

The door behind you slammed shut.