Video - Whispers of the Haunted Attic

The old grandfather clock struck midnight, its hollow chimes echoing through the abandoned mansion. Eleanor shivered, her candle flickering against the velvet darkness. She was drawn to the attic, a trapdoor above creaking open on its own. Broken toys lay scattered, their glassy eyes glinting with malevolent intent. A chilling wind whispered her name. Heart pounding, she turned, finding herself face to face with a shadowy figure, its smile stretching impossibly wide. It held a doll that mirrored her features precisely, eyes wide with terror. As the doll's porcelain hand touched her own, Eleanor felt herself pulled into its cold, unblinking gaze.