Video - Depths of her Nightmares

The basement door creaked open, a breath of cold air wafting up as Lydia descended the rickety stairs. Shadows danced in the flickering light, revealing a tangle of old boxes and forgotten memories. But in the far corner, something glimmered—a smile of bone. Heart racing, she stumbled closer, her breath hitching. It wasn’t just a skeleton; it was dressed in her late grandmother’s favorite shawl, the fabric still vibrant against the pallor of decay. Lydia froze as the skull turned, empty sockets locking onto hers. “You shouldn’t have come back,” it whispered, the voice echoing from the depths of her nightmares.