Video - Whispers of the Haunted Lighthouse

Under the piercing gaze of a pale crescent moon, the derelict lighthouse stood, its iron door creaking open like a reluctant mouth. Inside, Elara's flashlight beam danced on peeling walls, revealing shadows that writhed like serpents. An icy wind whispered secrets through shattered windows. Suddenly, the light caught a figure—a spectral sailor, eyes hollow, skin translucent as mist. "Help us," it rasped, voice echoing with the weight of centuries. The room twisted, reality bending as ghostly hands reached for her, pulling her into their eternal night. Elara screamed, but her voice was swallowed by the endless, hungry dark.