Chronocore - Pitman, Dave
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Chronocore: A Whisper Through the Walls The house seemed to hold its breath. Evan stood on the front step, squinting up at the old Victorian that loomed above them. Shadows pooled in the corners where chipped paint peeled away from wood, and ivy crawled over the walls like fingers reaching back toward the past. It was nothing like their last home, modern and bright. Here, everything felt... heavy. Thick with dust and time and stories that had long been forgotten. "Let's get you settled," their mom said, jostling a box in her arms as she nudged open the creaky front door. Evan followed,…mehr

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Chronocore: A Whisper Through the Walls The house seemed to hold its breath. Evan stood on the front step, squinting up at the old Victorian that loomed above them. Shadows pooled in the corners where chipped paint peeled away from wood, and ivy crawled over the walls like fingers reaching back toward the past. It was nothing like their last home, modern and bright. Here, everything felt... heavy. Thick with dust and time and stories that had long been forgotten. "Let's get you settled," their mom said, jostling a box in her arms as she nudged open the creaky front door. Evan followed, glancing over their shoulder, almost feeling like someone-or something-was watching. Inside, the air was still, and the faint smell of mothballs and aged wood greeted them. The floors creaked underfoot, echoing in the hollow space. The walls were lined with faded wallpaper, intricate patterns dancing across in muted greens and blues, as though they might shift and change when no one was looking. They dropped their backpack on the floor and looked around. This was their new reality. They were alone here, in a house full of secrets. Their room was at the end of the hallway, up a staircase that wound sharply to the left. It was small and plain, with a single window that looked out over the garden, a wild tangle of weeds and overgrown hedges. They put their things down, sighing heavily. The move had been hard-leaving behind friends, school, and the life they'd known. Here, everything felt strange. And, to make it worse, the quiet settled in too quickly, the house too big and empty to feel like a home. That night, as they lay awake in bed, staring at the ceiling, they heard it: a soft shuffle, like feet moving across the floor. They held their breath, listening. The sound came again, soft but distinct. The house was old, sure, and houses like these creaked. That's all it was... wasn't it? Then, faintly, something else-a whisper. A wordless murmur that brushed past their ear and sent a chill racing down their spine. They sat up, eyes wide, peering into the shadows. There was nothing there. Just the dim shapes of their furniture and the pale glow of moonlight filtering through the window. They lay back down, their heart pounding, trying to convince themselves it was nothing. Just nerves. Just their mind playing tricks in an unfamiliar space. But as they drifted off to sleep, they couldn't shake the feeling that the house was hiding something. That there was someone, somewhere, waiting to be found. The days passed slowly. Evan tried to settle into a routine, exploring the house, pacing its quiet rooms, and listening to the old floorboards groan beneath their feet. But the house seemed to keep its secrets close, and no matter how hard they tried, there was an undeniable sense that something lingered just beyond their reach, hovering in the edges of their vision. Then one evening, while sorting through an old trunk they'd found in the attic, they stumbled upon something unusual. Nestled under a pile of moth-eaten blankets and yellowed letters was a small, dusty music box. Curious, they brushed off the dust, gently winding it until it clicked. As the melody played-a haunting, nostalgic tune-they felt a strange warmth fill the room. The air seemed to thicken, growing almost... alive. They looked up, startled, feeling that familiar chill prickling down their spine. "Hello?" they whispered, barely audible. At first, there was nothing but silence, and Evan felt a little silly. But then, in the dim light, a faint figure began to take shape, shimmering near the far wall. They gasped, frozen in place, as the figure coalesced into a person-a girl, maybe around their age, with a look of wonder in her eyes, as though she were seeing Evan for the first time too.
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