The First Signs

Chapter 3

The dresser, the barricade-they were gone. The door stood wide open, leading back into the shadowy hallway.

"No. No, that's impossible," Adrian said, shaking his head. His voice was steady, but his hands trembled.

"We all saw it," Damsel whispered. "It was there. We moved it with our own hands."

Wilson's breathing grew ragged. He didn't want to look away from the doorway, but something deep inside him screamed that the longer they stayed, the worse it would get.

"Let's just go," he said, his voice firmer than he felt. "Whatever's in here, we don't want to find it."

Condo nodded quickly. "For once, I agree. This isn't fun anymore." He tried to smile, but the fear in his eyes betrayed him.

The group stepped cautiously into the hallway, their flashlights darting across the peeling wallpaper and warped wooden floorboards. The air felt heavier now, pressing down on them with every step.

"This house... it's alive," Damsel murmured.

"What are you talking about?" Wilson asked, glancing back at her.

"Look around," she said, her voice barely audible. "The walls-they're different."

Wilson frowned and shone his flashlight down the hallway. She was right. The walls were no longer cracked and faded; instead, they looked almost new, as if the house was repairing itself. But the wallpaper wasn't any design he'd seen before-it was black and veined with faint, pulsing red lines, like blood vessels.

Adrian reached out hesitantly, touching the wall. He jerked his hand back immediately. "It's warm," he said, his face pale. "Like skin."

A shiver ran down Wilson's spine. "We have to find another way out. Now."

They moved quickly, their footsteps echoing loudly. The hallway seemed endless, stretching on and on no matter how far they walked. Every door they passed led to a room that felt wrong: a library with books that dissolved into ash when touched, a kitchen where knives hung suspended in the air, a nursery filled with dolls that turned their heads to watch them.

"This isn't real," Condo muttered. He wiped sweat from his brow and leaned against a wall. "It can't be real. Stuff like this doesn't happen in real life."

Wilson grabbed his arm, pulling him forward. "Keep moving. Don't stop."

Suddenly, a sound broke through the silence-a soft, wet squelching, like something dragging itself across the floor.

"What is that?" Damsel hissed, her eyes darting around.

The sound grew louder, coming from behind them. Wilson turned, his flashlight trembling in his hand. At first, he saw nothing. Then, out of the shadows, something emerged.

It crawled on all fours, its body impossibly long and twisted, its limbs bending in ways no human's should. Its face-or what should have been a face-was a blank, featureless void.

"Run!" Adrian shouted, pulling Damsel by the arm.

They sprinted down the hallway, the creature's distorted limbs scraping against the floor as it pursued them. Wilson's heart pounded in his chest as he ran, adrenaline surging through his veins. He could hear Condo breathing heavily behind him, muttering a string of curses under his breath.

They reached another staircase and bolted up, the wooden steps groaning under their weight. At the top, they found themselves in an attic filled with broken furniture and cobwebs.

"Close the hatch!" Damsel cried, slamming the door behind them. Adrian and Wilson shoved a heavy trunk over it, barricading the entrance.

For a moment, there was silence. Wilson leaned against the wall, trying to catch his breath. His flashlight beam swept across the attic, revealing dusty crates, rusted tools, and old portraits with faces that seemed to watch them.

"Is it gone?" Condo asked, his voice trembling.

Before anyone could answer, the walls began to tremble. The attic seemed to shift, the floorboards rippling like water.

"This isn't happening," Adrian said, backing away from the shaking walls.

The portraits on the walls began to distort, their faces stretching into grotesque shapes. One by one, the glass shattered, and the faces disappeared.

"Look!" Damsel pointed at the far corner of the attic, where a trapdoor had appeared in the floor.

Wilson hesitated. "Do we trust it?"

"What choice do we have?" Condo snapped.

Adrian pushed the trunk aside, and they all descended the ladder into a new hallway-this one darker, the air thick with the smell of decay.

Wilson's stomach twisted as he stepped forward. He could feel the house closing in around them, the walls narrowing and the ceiling lowering. The pulsing sound returned, louder now, accompanied by whispers that seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once.

"This place is a nightmare," Damsel whispered, clutching Wilson's arm.

"We'll get out," he said, trying to sound confident. But deep down, he wasn't so sure.