The cold air of the atrium seems like a welcoming embrace compared to the frigid tendrils that greet you as you pry open the door to the cellar. A wheezing sigh exhales from the darkness, snuffing out the last dregs of your courage. With a flick of your flashlight, you begin your descent into the bowels of Blackwood Manor.
Each creaking step announces your arrival to the gloom below. The shivering air nibbles at your flesh, gnawing at your nerves and nipping away at your resolve. You're a trespasser in an unseen realm, interloper into the territories of the damned, and you can feel their baleful gazes adorned with greed and hostility.
Old barrels and crates, swollen with mold and rot, huddle together in darkened corners, their whispers deafening. A precarious stack of wine bottles spills out onto the floor, their labels reduced to dusty, indecipherable fragments. Cobwebs drape from the ceiling like ghostly veils, revealing hazy glimpses of gleaming eyes and predatory grins that lurk beyond the beam of your flashlight.
As you journey deeper into the claustrophobic abyss, your every breath labors, your constricted lungs drowning under the stench of decay and suffering. The air, thick with the weight of forgotten torments, clings to your body like an ethereal shroud.
In the darkest recess of the cellar, a figure materializes, ethereal and undeniably real. Her gaunt form hovers by a door, its rusty chain and padlock testament to its long neglect. The ghost appears lonesome, her empty eyes beseeching you with pain-filled cries. A bone-chilling sob escapes her translucent lips, imploring you to break the chains and bring an end to her torment.
With pulse pounding and hands trembling, you approach the phantom, the sweat on your brow turning to ice. A choice weighs heavy in your heart – do you heed the spirit’s pleas, or retreat and confront the darkness that you have discovered elsewhere in Blackwood Manor?
Break the chains and unlock the door.