The towering figure in chains stood motionless at the end of the tunnel.

Its lantern cast long shadows across the damp stone floor.

Ethan’s pulse hammered in his ears.

The voice that had spoken his name still echoed through the basement.

“You escaped once…”

Before anyone could react, Elias stepped between Ethan and the figure.

“Run!” he shouted.

Mason didn’t argue.

“For the first time since we got here,” he yelled while grabbing Ethan’s arm, “that’s the smartest thing anyone has said!”

The two friends sprinted through the maze of tunnels.

Behind them came the heavy clang of metal striking stone.

Not fast.

Not hurried.

Just steady.

As though whoever—or whatever—was following knew they couldn’t escape.

---

They burst into the library, breathing hard.

The basement door slammed shut behind them.

Silence.

Mason leaned against a bookshelf.

“I vote we leave this house.”

“I’ve voted that three times already.”

“No, this time I really mean it.”

Ethan managed a tired smile.

“You really waited until now?”

“I was trying to be optimistic.”

---

Elias joined them moments later.

His face was pale.

“The Keeper never leaves the basement,” he said quietly.

“Then what is it?” Ethan asked.

The old caretaker looked toward the fireplace.

“When Ashcroft Manor caught fire decades ago, many records were destroyed. Survivors told different stories. Some believed someone remained behind to guard the truth.”

“You mean a person?”

“I mean… no one knows.”

---

Determined to find answers, Ethan searched the library.

Hidden behind a row of dusty books, he found a leather-bound journal.

The cover read:

Property of Eleanor Ashcroft

Inside were handwritten notes describing strange experiments, disappearances, and a devastating fire that had consumed part of the estate.

One sentence had been underlined several times:

“Memory is more dangerous than fear. If the truth returns, so will the past.”

Another page contained a list of names.

Most had been crossed out.

Only two remained untouched.

Ethan Cole.

Mason Hart.

Mason stared at the page.

“Either someone predicted the future…”

“…or someone wanted us to believe they did,” Ethan finished.

---

That evening, the storm finally stopped.

For the first time since arriving, moonlight shone through the cracked windows.

The mansion seemed quieter.

Almost peaceful.

Almost.

As Ethan looked outside, he noticed footprints in the muddy courtyard.

Fresh footprints.

Two sets.

Leading away from the mansion.

None leading back.

Mason joined him at the window.

“Tell me we’re not the only guests.”

“I wish I could.”

Then they both noticed something else.

At the edge of the forest stood a small figure.

A little girl in a white dress.

She wasn’t moving.

She simply raised one hand…

…and pointed toward the woods.

When lightning flashed across the sky, she was gone.

Only the swaying trees remained.

Ethan looked down at the journal in his hands.

“I don’t think this house wants us to stay.”

Mason sighed.

“Finally. We agree on something.”

Outside, hidden among the trees, someone watched the mansion through a pair of binoculars.

A notebook lay open beside them.

Across the top of the page was written:

Day 1: They have returned. The experiment has begun again.