Shadows whisper beneath the cypress trees, secrets of those who come, yet never leave. The wind carries laughter, hollow and mirthless, through the corridors of forgotten dreams. Can you hear them? Step lightly, for the ground beneath may weep at your passing.
Footprints in the dew-laden grass, a trail leading nowhere. A solitary figure, masked and cloaked, walks the endless path. The earth drinks their steps, erasing each impression as soon as it's made. And yet they continue, eternally wandering.
Do you dare continue? The whispers implore you. Step further into the shadows, where light falters and truths hide in plain sight.
Chillings: A rendezvous of specters, caught in a dance of echoes.