EPISODE 5
Helena's legs burned with every step, but she didn't stop. The stairs spiraled endlessly, as if the house was taller than any building she had ever known. Behind her, the whispers followed — hundreds of voices murmuring in forgotten tongues, growing louder with each floor.
"Helena… remember… remember..."
At last, the staircase ended in front of a crooked wooden door. Its surface was splintered, as if someone had pounded on it for years, trying to escape — or get in.
Her hand trembled as she reached for the doorknob.
The moment she touched it, a shock ran through her body.
Memories. Flashes.
Her mother, screaming.
A mirror shattering.
Her own reflection — smiling when she wasn't.
Then the vision vanished.
She twisted the knob.
The door creaked open into the attic.
It smelled of dust, decay… and something else. Something metallic. Blood?
The room was filled with old furniture draped in white cloth. Moonlight spilled through a single cracked window, casting everything in silver shadows.
In the center stood a chair.
And someone sat in it.
Helena stepped closer, heart hammering.
"Daniel…?"
The figure turned slowly.
It was her brother — or something wearing his face.
His eyes were hollow. His skin paper-thin. A stitched line ran down the center of his forehead.
He smiled.
But it wasn't a smile of love.
It was a warning.
"You left me here," he whispered. "You let them take me."
Tears welled in Helena's eyes. "I didn't know… I was just a child…"
The room shuddered. Dust rained from the rafters. The whispers became screams.
Daniel stood.
Behind him, the wall peeled open — like skin — revealing a hidden passage. A tunnel that pulsed like a vein.
He pointed.
"You want the truth? Go through."
Helena hesitated.
The tunnel was dark. Wet. Alive.
But she had come this far.
She stepped in.
The walls closed behind her.
The truth was waiting.
And the House of Whispers was ready to show her everything.
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