Rowan stood before the mansion, fog swirling around its broken chimneys. The place looked like it had been holding its breath for years.
Inside, everything smelled of rot and dust. The wallpaper hung loose, like skin peeling away. He dropped his toolbox and called out, just to break the silence — but the echo came back wrong. It was slower, softer… like something was mimicking him.
He brushed it off and climbed the stairs. A child's room waited at the end of the hall, its toys frozen in dust. From beneath the floor came a faint tap… tap… tap.
He knocked back once.Silence.
Then, two soft knocks answered.
Rowan froze. His flashlight flickered — and when it steadied, the porcelain doll in the corner was no longer facing the wall.
Downstairs, the front door slammed shut on its own. The air seemed to shift, like the whole house had just inhaled.
And somewhere beneath him, something began to breathe back.