Chapter Two: The Sound Behind the Wall
The candle flickered, its flame dancing across the walls of the old room.
Lian slowly turned toward the source of the sound, but the room was completely empty.
The sound wasn't a figment of her imagination… it was clear, close, as if it had come from within the walls themselves.
She placed the notebook on the table and approached the wall that seemed to be emitting a faint murmur, like a groan trapped behind the stones.
She reached out, touching the wall with the tips of her fingers…
It was warm!
Terrified, she stepped back two paces, but then she noticed something:
The old paint had started to peel, as if the wall itself were breathing.
Then the paint split slightly, revealing dark lines underneath that resembled carved writings in a language she had never seen before.
> "Lian… do not open the lower door."
The words froze her in place — they were written in a color resembling blood.
At that very moment, she heard slow footsteps ascending from the basement.
Step… then another…
As if someone were coming up from the cellar, heading straight toward her.
She held the candle in her trembling hand and approached the stairs.
Thick darkness covered the place, and the air had grown strangely cold.
Yet she could hear the breathing… human breathing, very close.
> "Who's there?!"
Lian screamed, but the reply came as a deep whisper:
"You know me, Lian… I am the one who wrote the notebook."