Veil of Shadows

Night one

Night One:

Ever since she was little, she'd had a nightly ritual—a habit of talking to herself about her day, recounting every detail and trying to make sense of her life. Tonight was no different. She ran to the door, closing it quickly after switching off the light. Normally, she wasn't afraid of the dark. But here, in this new house, she couldn't shake the feeling that someone was watching, lurking, inching closer, as if she were a bird in a cage—one that was wide open, yet she stayed, drawn by the strange attention.

She moved to the bathroom to wash her face, then picked up her towel from the small pile of belongings. After drying her face and changing into pajamas, she tucked herself into bed and whispered her "prayers" before drifting off to sleep.

A few hours later, she jolted awake, glancing at the clock: 2:00 a.m. Ugh—why can't I sleep? she thought, frustrated. Normally, she was a deep sleeper.

She got up, walked to the door, and reached for the knob. As soon as her fingers touched it, a sudden, searing heat burned into her hand. "What the f—" she whispered, pulling back and looking down at her palm. A strange mark was imprinted on her skin. Or had it been there already?

She inspected the doorknob—it was smooth, cool to the touch now, and completely ordinary. But the mark on her hand was anything but ordinary. She recognized it from the police report on the previous owners. Both of them—the abusive, controlling husband and his wife, a cold-blooded murderer with dark obsessions—had borne the same mark.

The police had called it the Sinner's Mark.

Week One:

It's been a week since she moved in, and she's already questioning why she bought the house. The police left a few items behind, most of them covered in dried, moldy blood. They left almost all the furniture: the bed in the main bedroom—her room—the couches in the living room, every mirror, and even some clothing. She often lies awake at night, wondering why they would leave the creepy mirrors.

The mirror across from her bedroom is especially unsettling. It's covered in thick layers of mold and dust, as if it hasn't been cleaned in decades, just like the rest of the house. There's so much dust that she half-jokingly wonders if she might catch something—aspergillosis maybe—from staying here too long.

She starts to clean up the house starting in the kitchen, main living room, guest bathroom, etc, and finally the last room, her room.

While cleaning she found a box with a bow on it, the box looked new and pretty. She opened the box to discover a journal in it. She opened the journal and inside was the name of the woman that die here, it was written in what seems to be blood.