originalskittlesman
The hallway is narrow and warped, its wooden floor bending under every cautious step. Faded wallpaper curls away from the walls like peeling skin, revealing dark symbols carved deep beneath the surface. A cold draft moves through the space, carrying the scent of damp earth and old perfume. The portraits lining the walls seem to watch silently, their cracked eyes following anyone who passes. Every inch of the hallway feels alive, holding its breath as if waiting for something to happen.