Lena Mitchell hesitated before the towering front door, her breath fogging in the chill air. The wind rattled brittle leaves across the porch, echoing like distant footsteps. She gripped her satchel tighter, her heart pounding as she reached for the tarnished handle.

Lena stepped inside, the floorboards groaning beneath her boots. Her flashlight beam darted from one shadowy corner to the next. "I just need to find the deed and get out," she whispered, trying to steady her nerves.

An icy breath brushed the back of Lena's neck. Goosebumps rose on her arms as she heard the soft creak of a door down the hall. "Is someone there?" Her voice trembled, swallowed by the darkness. Silence answered her, broken only by a sudden scraping sound from upstairs.

Lena forced herself up the stairs, flinching as a door slammed below. She turned a corner and found a child’s room, its rocking horse swaying without cause. A hissing whisper filled her ears—"You shouldn't be here..."—making her heart race.

Swallowing her fear, Lena pulled aside the tapestry and pressed her palm to the door. It creaked open, revealing a cramped passage lined with antique mirrors, all reflecting her terrified face. "This is my only way out," she murmured, stepping inside as ghostly hands seemed to claw at her reflection.

Lena stumbled into the open, gasping for breath, the manor looming behind her like a sleeping beast. She dared not look back as she ran for the distant road, the weight of unseen eyes pressing against her back. Only the echo of that haunting melody followed her into the night, promising she would never truly escape the house’s grasp.