Eyes in the shadows

The metallic scent hit Lara before she even touched the light switch.

It curled into her lungs, sharp and heavy, dragging memories she didn’t want to remember.

The hallway floor glistened in the dim moonlight seeping through the broken window.

She stepped forward, her stiletto heel clicking against the wood, then stopped.

A dark, glossy pool spread across the boards.

She crouched down, her black leather skirt brushing against the wet surface.

Her fingers dipped into it before she could stop herself.

Warm. Thick. Sticky.

Blood.

Lara’s pulse quickened.

This house had been abandoned for ten years—ever since the fire and the screams.

She told herself it was impossible… yet the blood was still fresh.

She forced her eyes away from the floor and looked down the corridor.

At the end stood a door she had never seen before—deep crimson, almost breathing in the shadows.

Its brass handle gleamed unnaturally, slick as if someone had just touched it.

The air grew colder with every step she took.

Her breathing slowed. Her heartbeat pounded in her ears.

When her fingertips slid over the handle, she felt something warm smear against her skin.

She brought her hand up. More blood.

The door creaked open on its own, a sound too slow, too deliberate, as if it had been waiting for her.

Inside, the walls were covered in jagged writing—letters carved deep into the wood, dripping scarlet.

One phrase repeated over and over, filling every inch of the room,

as if the house itself was whispering to her:

> “WELCOME BACK, LARA.”