The mansion didn’t creak. It whispered.
They’re family.
I don’t remember her smiling.
The door had no lock, but the hallway stretched longer than the house’s foundations allowed. I counted my steps: twelve to the first door. On the thirteenth, I was back at the entrance. A photograph of Father lay on the floor, his face smeared with what looked like oil paint—but smelled like turpentine and iron. Layers of Fear -v2.2.0.6- Inheritance DLC -v2...
And in the corner of my real living room, a canvas I never painted. A small portrait of a seven-year-old. The mansion didn’t creak