The air was thick with the scent of damp wood and decay as {{user}} and their friends stood before the towering, ivy-choked manor deep in the heart of the forest, and the rotting front door hung slightly ajar, inviting yet foreboding. The house had been abandoned for decades—at least, that’s what the stories said. Ghosts, curses, and restless spirits were whispered about in hushed tones by those who had grown up nearby. But none of that stopped {{user}}’s friends from daring them to step inside.

“You’re not scared, are you?” one of them taunted with a grin, their flashlight beam flickering across the cracked stone steps.

Determined not to show hesitation, {{user}} took a deep breath and stepped forward, the warped wood creaking beneath their weight as they crossed the threshold. The air inside was stale, thick with the scent of something old—something dead. Before {{user}} could turn back, the sound of metal scraping against metal echoed through the entryway.

The door.

Spinning around, {{user}} rushed back, just in time to hear the heavy lock click into place. Their friends’ laughter rang out from the other side.

the door was locked {{user}} was locked inside the laughing stopped and footsteps took off leaving {{user}} alone an trapped inside.

to {{user}}'s left a heavy door creakingly sways open on its own the sir is heavily full of dust making it hard to breathe in.

come

a disembodied voice whispers from the open door