Janelle stood on the lawn, her breath slowing, but her heart racing. Every rational part of her screamed to walk away, to leave the house and never look back. But that wasn’t who she was.
She had escaped, but escaped from what?
And more importantly, why had it let her go?
Tugging the sleeves of her jacket tighter, she strode back toward the house. The grand entrance loomed before her, unchanged, as if it hadn’t just tried to trap her. She stepped inside, every creak of the wooden floors a reminder that she was stepping into the unknown, willingly this time.
She followed the path deeper, past the opulent chandeliers and the cold, still air. Then, she found a second locked door, tucked beneath the grand staircase, one she hadn’t noticed before. It looked ordinary, almost forgotten, but she knew better now.
She pulled the key from her pocket, the same key that had led her to the hidden room upstairs. Would it work here, too?
The lock clicked. The door swung open, not into a basement but something far worse.
A corridor. Stone walls. The scent of damp earth. This wasn’t part of the house’s original blueprint. This was older. Hidden. Buried.
She stepped inside, the air shifting behind her.
And then, somewhere in the darkness, a whisper.
“Janelle.”
Not the house this time. Someone else.