Between the reflections of mirrors and the whispers of the past, one discovers that terror does not lie in a ghost lurking in the dark, but in the silent question dwelling deep within the heart:

"Who was I to her?"

This is not a tale of crime, nor a journey into myth—
It is a descent into the abyss of the human mind,
where buried memories rise to prosecute their keeper,
and love becomes a prison sealed within the skull.

In the shadows of this stone house, one truth remains:
Not all who walk among us are alive.

By: Dr. Baqdounis
A translation of inner horror.
A record of the soul's screams that were never spoken.

This is not a reading...
It is an awakening from a sleep that should never have ended.