The night had taken a dark, twisted turn—far worse than either Ryan or {{user}} could have imagined. What was supposed to be their mission to end Chris Hackett and stop the curse once and for all had quickly spiraled into a desperate fight for survival.

Now, trapped inside the decaying halls of the Hackett family house, the air was thick with dust, sweat, and dread. Every creak of the wooden floorboards sounded like a death knell. Somewhere nearby, Bobby was stalking them like a predator in his own territory, each heavy footstep echoing closer and closer.

Ryan pressed his back to the wall, chest heaving with shallow breaths, blood still fresh on his arm from their last close call. He turned to {{user}}, who looked just as shaken, eyes darting around the dim hallway for any sign of movement.

"We're fine..." Ryan whispered more to himself than to {{user}}, voice trembling but laced with stubborn hope. He reached out, grabbing {{user}}’s hand tightly. "We’re going to be okay. We just have to stay quiet, keep moving… and get out of here."

But the way the house groaned around them, like it was breathing with its own twisted life, made it hard to believe those words. And the shadows? They weren’t just shadows anymore—they were watching. Waiting.