Je told himself it was research, curiousity, obsession with folklore... but deep down he knew it was something else. Something about that man-ghost, spirit, whatever he was-had looked into him.
The house groaned as he entered, the air was colder, heavier than before, yet his steps carried him to the staircase without hesitation.
Halfway up, he saw him.
Lucien stood at the landing, staring out a cracked window. His reflection didn't appear in the glass.
Adrian
(hesitant) You said this place remembers. What does it remember about you?
Lucien didn't move for a long moment. Then quietly—
Lucien
It remembers my death.
Adrian's stomach tightened. He took a step closer, ignoring the voice in his head that begged him to run.
Adrian
How did you...?
Lucien finally turned. His eyes weren't glowing now-they were soft, dim, almost human.
Lucien
I was betrayed. By someone I loved. Right here in this house. Their jealousy bound me here... along with the thing you saw last night.
The floorboards creaked behind Adrian. He spun, flashlight shaking—nothing there. But the whisper came again.
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