Narrator

Each step felt heavier than the last, an instinctive dread building relentlessly inside my chest. When I arrived, the building loomed larger in the darkness, silhouetted against a low, cloud-choked sky. Rain hammered against its wooden walls, filling the air with a relentless roar. Stealing my nerves, I pushed through the front door. Inside, the cold was piercing, soaking into my clothes.

Each step felt heavier than the last, an instinctive dread building relentlessly inside my chest. When I arrived, the building loomed larger in the darkness, silhouetted against a low, cloud-choked sky. Rain hammered against its wooden walls, filling the air with a relentless roar. Stealing my nerves, I pushed through the front door. Inside, the cold was piercing, soaking into my clothes.

Shadows stretched in every direction as my flashlight cast trembling beams across the room. I hesitated near the staircase, remembering the muddy footprints in the attic above. My heart pounded at the thought of climbing those stairs again, but curiosity and fear had merged into a stubborn need for answers. Slowly, step by step, I ascended, senses straining for any hint of sound.

Shadows stretched in every direction as my flashlight cast trembling beams across the room. I hesitated near the staircase, remembering the muddy footprints in the attic above. My heart pounded at the thought of climbing those stairs again, but curiosity and fear had merged into a stubborn need for answers. Slowly, step by step, I ascended, senses straining for any hint of sound.

On the second floor, I paused beneath the attic hatch, forcing my breath into slow, steady rhythms. Reaching upward, I gripped the wooden panel and tugged it open. The hatch swung downward, revealing a pitch-black void above. I shined my flashlight upward, illuminating narrow wooden rafters and thick beams tangled with cobwebs. Climbing carefully into the attic crawlspace, I inhaled sharply.

On the second floor, I paused beneath the attic hatch, forcing my breath into slow, steady rhythms. Reaching upward, I gripped the wooden panel and tugged it open. The hatch swung downward, revealing a pitch-black void above. I shined my flashlight upward, illuminating narrow wooden rafters and thick beams tangled with cobwebs. Climbing carefully into the attic crawlspace, I inhaled sharply.

The beam of my flashlight landed on something disturbing tucked away in the far corner. a small burned mattress blackened by soot and time crouched down i leaned forward for a closer look resting atop it was a bundle wrapped tightly in wool fabric and rusted barbed wire a sinking dread filled my gut Gingerly pulling the cloth away, I recoiled sharply.

The beam of my flashlight landed on something disturbing tucked away in the far corner. a small burned mattress blackened by soot and time crouched down i leaned forward for a closer look resting atop it was a bundle wrapped tightly in wool fabric and rusted barbed wire a sinking dread filled my gut Gingerly pulling the cloth away, I recoiled sharply.

Inside lay a collection of charred bones, small, brittle, and undoubtedly human. My breath came in rapid, shallow gasps as I backed away, accidentally kicking something solid. A weathered leather notebook lay half-hidden under the mattress. Hands shaking, I opened the pages. Damp and mildewed, the handwriting was difficult but not impossible to decipher.

Inside lay a collection of charred bones, small, brittle, and undoubtedly human. My breath came in rapid, shallow gasps as I backed away, accidentally kicking something solid. A weathered leather notebook lay half-hidden under the mattress. Hands shaking, I opened the pages. Damp and mildewed, the handwriting was difficult but not impossible to decipher.

I skimmed entries from someone named Thorvaldr, dated decades earlier. The earliest pages described mundane farm life, but the tone soon darkened into despair and paranoia. I cannot leave. They refuse to let me go. I hear them whispering from above. I've burned them again and again. But they always return. Feeding them has done nothing. They demand more.

I skimmed entries from someone named Thorvaldr, dated decades earlier. The earliest pages described mundane farm life, but the tone soon darkened into despair and paranoia. I cannot leave. They refuse to let me go. I hear them whispering from above. I've burned them again and again. But they always return. Feeding them has done nothing. They demand more.

The final page was a frantic scribble, repeating a single desperate line. They never leave. I shut the notebook sharply, a cold sweat tracing my spine. Suddenly, I heard movement. A distinct, unmistakable shifting from the darkest corner of the attic, just beyond my flashlight's beam. Turning quickly, my heart surged into my throat as the attic hatch slammed shut behind me with a violent crash.

The final page was a frantic scribble, repeating a single desperate line. They never leave. I shut the notebook sharply, a cold sweat tracing my spine. Suddenly, I heard movement. A distinct, unmistakable shifting from the darkest corner of the attic, just beyond my flashlight's beam. Turning quickly, my heart surged into my throat as the attic hatch slammed shut behind me with a violent crash.

I scrambled across the floorboards, pulse roaring in my ears, hands desperately clawing at the hatch. It wouldn't budge, locked inexplicably tight from beneath. Then another sound reached me, a low, scraping movement growing louder, closer. Fueled by pure panic, I kicked at the hatch repeatedly, each impact reverberating through my bones.

I scrambled across the floorboards, pulse roaring in my ears, hands desperately clawing at the hatch. It wouldn't budge, locked inexplicably tight from beneath. Then another sound reached me, a low, scraping movement growing louder, closer. Fueled by pure panic, I kicked at the hatch repeatedly, each impact reverberating through my bones.

Finally, the wood splintered, cracking open enough for me to shove it aside. Dropping through the gap, I crashed onto the hallway floor, flashlights spinning away into darkness. Stumbling to my feet, I sprinted through the farmhouse without stopping.

Finally, the wood splintered, cracking open enough for me to shove it aside. Dropping through the gap, I crashed onto the hallway floor, flashlights spinning away into darkness. Stumbling to my feet, I sprinted through the farmhouse without stopping.

Pushing blindly through the front door and into the furious storm, wind lashed at my face as I sprinted toward the distant road, not daring a glance behind. After two days of wandering, cold and nearly delirious, I was finally rescued by a road crew surveying storm damage. Weeks later, back in Reykjavik, I attempted to recover my photographs. The files from inside the farmhouse were corrupted.

Pushing blindly through the front door and into the furious storm, wind lashed at my face as I sprinted toward the distant road, not daring a glance behind. After two days of wandering, cold and nearly delirious, I was finally rescued by a road crew surveying storm damage. Weeks later, back in Reykjavik, I attempted to recover my photographs. The files from inside the farmhouse were corrupted.