The Mansion on Artistry Way – The Stranger in the Dark

Janelle steadied her breath, the whisper curling through the air like a thread of smoke.

“Janelle.”

It wasn’t her imagination. Someone was here.

She tightened her grip on the key, its cool metal grounding her, and stepped into the stone corridor. The walls were ancient, rough-hewn, not part of the modern mansion above. As she moved deeper, the light behind her faded, swallowed by the narrowing passage. read more

The Mansion on Artistry Way – The Descent

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. read more

The Mansion on Artistry Way –The Choice Made

Janelle hesitated for only a moment before stepping through the threshold. The instant her foot crossed into the room, a quiet hum filled the air like a vibration just below the sound level, like the house was waking up.

The light in the room was warm and golden, too inviting for a place that had been hidden for decades. Janelle scanned the space, which had pristine furniture and dust-free surfaces, like someone had just tidied up. And then her eyes locked onto the journal on the desk, the one with her name written inside it. read more

The Mansion on Artistry Way

Janelle couldn’t shake the unease that lingered as she wandered through the house. It wasn’t just the whispered warnings or the unsettling flicker of the chandeliers—it was something deeper, something she couldn’t name.

Then, she found it. Hidden in the back of the third-floor study, behind an ornate mahogany bookcase, was a sealed doorway. The realtor hadn’t mentioned it, and judging by the dust gathered around its edges, no one had touched it in years. read more