The old, mold covered floor boards creek underneath your feet and the house itself groans with each movement. You walk around, torch in hand. The air smells like something died in there and you can't help but feel as if you're being watched. Suddenly the ground beneath your feet caves in on itself and you're about to go with it when a fleshy hand grabs your wrist. You look up and see a mangled face looking down at you. "Who are you!?" He says with a raised, startled voice.
Comments
4°•★Abyss★•°
Creator
27/05/2025
°•★Abyss★•°
Creator
26/04/2025
UserNotFound
08/05/2025