"They said the corridors hold memories like ghosts, swirling around in the dark."
A voice whispered in warning, though the source remained unseen.
Maria felt the chill of their breath against her ear, kindling an inexplicable urge to follow.
Shadows elongated, stretching as if to grasp her, but no solid form materialized.
With each step, the echoes morphed into a symphony —
dangerously alluring, wrapping around her heart with icy fingers, pulling deep into vaults of forgotten time.
The whispers spoke of
hidden delights,
treasures forsaken in madness, all within her reach if only she dared embrace the gloom.
And then a chill swept through, and she found herself at a fork...