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The Prophetic Inheritance
The key felt heavier than it should have as I turned it in the lock of 47 Maple Street. The brass was tarnished, worn smooth by decades of use, and it scraped against the mechanism with a sound like fingernails on metal. The door swung open with a prolonged creak that seemed to echo through…
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Behind the Walls
The scratching started on our third night in the house. Just subtle at first—the kind of sound you’d attribute to settling pipes or skittering mice. Sarah said I was being paranoid when I mentioned it over breakfast, but I saw how her eyes darted to the walls when she thought I wasn’t looking. We’d gotten…
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Echoes Between The Trees
The sun was setting faster than Emma had anticipated. What had started as a simple shortcut through Miller’s Woods was quickly becoming a nightmare as shadows stretched like grasping fingers across the forest floor. She’d grown up hearing her grandmother’s warnings about these woods, but at seventeen, she’d dismissed them as stories meant to frighten…
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The Collective Dream
It started with Mrs. Henderson describing the hallway. “The walls are this terrible shade of green,” she said, wringing her hands in her lap. “Like old copper, or maybe pond scum. And no matter how far I walk, it never ends. Just door after door after door, all of them locked except for the last…