Echoes of the Mist

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The sound of the store bell still echoed in Marcus's mind as he walked towards his car. The shopkeeper's warning had stayed with him like a sentence, almost a confirmation of what he had felt since arriving in Woodberry: a place where people knew more than they said, where the truth was hidden under layers of silence and fear.

As he got into the car, Marcus noticed that the fog had thickened again, enveloping the street in a haze that turned the buildings into blurry silhouettes. The engine started with a soft roar, and Marcus headed towards the next stop on his list: the abandoned house on the hill. According to Liam, Anna and Evan had shown interest in that place; Evan had even mentioned that he wanted to film some of the most important scenes of his movie there.

 According to Liam, Anna and Evan had shown interest in that place; Evan had even mentioned that he wanted to film some of the most important scenes of his movie there

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The road to the hill was winding and steep, bordered by trees whose bare branches seemed to stretch out like claws towards the road. Marcus couldn't shake the feeling that the forest itself was watching him, as if the trees were guardians of secrets that didn't want to be discovered. The house on the hill finally came into view, an old, dark, and seemingly crumbling structure. Marcus stopped the car at a distance and observed the house for a moment. There was something inherently unsettling about the place, something that seemed to defy logic and reason.

He got out of the car and began walking towards the house, the crunch of dry branches under his feet the only sound breaking the silence. The fog swirled around the hill, making the house appear to float on a sea of mist. As he reached the door, Marcus noticed it was slightly ajar, as if it had been forced. Part of him hesitated, wondering if he should enter alone, but he knew he had no choice.

He pushed the door open carefully, the creak echoing in the silence, and stepped inside. The interior of the house was dim, the air filled with the smell of dampness and rotting wood. Marcus pulled a small flashlight from his coat and turned it on, the beam cutting through the darkness as he moved down the hallway. There were pieces of furniture covered with old sheets, tracks in the dust suggesting someone had been there recently, and on the far wall, a strange mark, as if something had been dragged.

Marcus approached to examine it more closely. The mark looked like it had been made with some kind of sharp object, and as he followed it with the flashlight, he noticed it led to a door at the end of the hallway. With each step he took, the air seemed to grow heavier, more oppressive, as if the house itself were trying to warn him not to continue. When he reached the door, he took a moment to prepare himself before opening it.

What he found on the other side was unexpected: a small room, almost empty, except for a video camera on the floor, pointing towards a corner where an old mirror leaned against the wall. Marcus felt a chill run down his spine. He crouched down and examined the camera; it was still on, the battery barely holding a charge. He pressed the play button, and the screen began to show blurry images, the sound of static filling the room.

The image showed the same room he was in, but something in the atmosphere was different. The mist seemed to have seeped inside, and a blurry figure stood in front of the mirror, motionless. Marcus tried to adjust the focus, but the figure remained indistinct, as if the camera couldn't capture it clearly. Suddenly, the screen went black, and a sharp screech echoed through the room before the camera shut off.

Marcus remained silent, the echo of the screech still ringing in his ears. The atmosphere was charged with a feeling that made his skin crawl, a mix of confusion and fear that was hard to ignore. He looked towards the mirror, its surface covered in dust; behind his reflection, something seemed to be watching him, something that didn't belong to this world.

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