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A familiar chill runs down your spine. You've been here before: the abandoned house on the hill, the dark hallway with the creaking floorboards, the ancient cemetery veiled in mist, the rutted pathway to a lonely place. You know these stories, or do you? These are the tales not told; the words pushed to the margins. These figures have been shrouded, forgotten, locked behind a creaking door, but now their stories will be told.
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A familiar chill runs down your spine. You've been here before: the abandoned house on the hill, the dark hallway with the creaking floorboards, the ancient cemetery veiled in mist, the rutted pathway...
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