My book weaves a tale of magical realism set in present-day America, where a hidden 3% of the populace wields magic under the watchful eye of a secret government.
At the heart of the narrative is Jessica, a very average girl in a non-magician norma...
Jessica's breath hitched, her pulse quickening as she and her friends stepped into the dimly lit escape room. The heavy scent of musty decay filled her nostrils, and the creaking of floorboards under their steps echoed in the silence. Cobwebs clung to the corners, and She felt a chill creep down her back in the damp air. This was supposed to be a fun way to celebrate her seventeenth birthday, but as she bit her lip and glanced around nervously, she couldn't help but think that something was off.
Clutching each other's arms for support, they ventured further into the unknown. The walls around them were covered in peeling, aged wallpaper, hinting at a long-abandoned haunted house. A low, chilling draft whispered through the room, prompting Jessica to instinctively draw closer to her friends, Ann and Soley.
As they moved cautiously, each step seeming to add another layer of enigma to the room, they noticed obscure objects lurking in the shadowy corners. Jessica's eyes roved incessantly, unable to find a resting place. From the corner of her eye, she saw the flickering candlelight casting unsettling shadows that danced and crept along the walls. These capricious movements animated the old, worn-out furniture, making it seem almost alive.
Jessica's eyes adjusted to the darkness, revealing the room's eerie furniture. A dusty chandelier, its crystals long devoid of sparkle, hung from the ceiling, while antique items, their original luster lost to time, were scattered around the room. Each piece seemed to hold a story, a silent witness to the room's haunted past. Amidst this chilling tableau, Jessica couldn't help but think, "Why does it feel so real?" The authenticity of their surroundings, from the whispering draft to the dancing shadows, seemed to blur the line between the game and reality, adding a layer of unnerving realism to their experience.
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Her friends, two recent high school graduate girls, chatted with fear and excitement about the room. But Jessica's thoughts were elsewhere. As she surveyed the room, her eyes lingered on the ominous-looking chairs and tables. The cold, clammy sensation of dread gripped her stomach like a vice. "I don't know why I agreed to this," she muttered under her breath, her voice barely audible above the thudding of her heart. "I'm not even brave. I have other strengths but being brave was never one of them. What am I doing here then?"
The clock struck midnight, marking the exact moment Jessica turned 17. All the lights in the room flickered off, plunging the room into darkness. A disembodied voice crackled through the loudspeaker, announcing that the game had begun.
The only source of light in the room was the a large candle in the old candlestick inside a library against the far wall of the room. With pounding hearts and shaky legs they approach it. It seemed to groan under the weight of its ancient contents and cobwebs hung from the corners of the bookcase. It was filled with old, worn-out books, their covers faded and pages yellowed with age. Each book had a number etched into its spine, the ink long since faded but still discernible in the dim, flickering light.
As Ann reached out and pulled the book she had touched, a low, chilling voice echoed through the room, "Who is there? How dare you enter my house?" The voice seemed to come from nowhere and everywhere at once, a spectral whisper that hung in the air. It was a voice that didn't belong to the living - a voice that carried the coldness of the grave and the bitterness of a spirit disturbed. Jessica's heart pounded in her chest, her fear so intense that it was almost paralyzing. She felt certain that the phantom of this escape room that they have been warned about could appear at any moment. Her friends, however, seemed more focused on solving the puzzles and escaping this haunted house.
