You find yourself in a dark hallway.

Each word you read pulls you one cautious step further into the shadows.

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The walls here are close, lined with old wood paneling that creaks with every shift of the air. The faint glow of flickering bulbs barely pushes back the darkness, their light sickly yellow and unreliable. Water drips somewhere in the distance — a slow, steady rhythm echoing down the corridor like the ticking of an unseen clock.

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The smell is thick — damp stone, dust, and something metallic, like old coins or blood long dried. You can almost taste it on your tongue. The silence between each drip feels alive, pressing against your skin, daring you to breathe too loudly.

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As you move forward, you notice faint carvings on the walls: faces half-hidden in shadow, mouths twisted into silent screams or eternal laughter. Their hollow eyes seem to follow you, watching, waiting.

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And then… at the far end, just barely visible through the gloom, there it is: the dim glow of a great doorway. Beyond it lies something ancient, sacred, and strange.

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Do you dare enter?