Between the reflections of mirrors and the whispers of the past, one discovers that terror does not lie in a ghost lurking in the dark, but in the silent question dwelling deep within the heart: "Who was I to her?" This is not a tale of crime, nor a journey into myth-It is a descent into the abyss of the human mind, where buried memories rise to prosecute their keeper, and love becomes a prison sealed within the skull.
In the shadows of this stone house, one truth remains:Not all who walk among us are alive. By: Dr. BaqdounisA translation of inner horror. A record of the soul's screams that were never spoken. This is not a reading.It is an awakening from a sleep that should never have ended.
Between the reflections of mirrors and the whispers of the past, one discovers that terror does not lie in a ghost lurking in the dark, but in the silent question dwelling deep within the heart: "Who was I to her?" This is not a tale of crime, nor a journey into myth-It is a descent into the abyss of the human mind, where buried memories rise to prosecute their keeper, and love becomes a prison sealed within the skull.
In the shadows of this stone house, one truth remains:Not all who walk among us are alive. By: Dr. BaqdounisA translation of inner horror. A record of the soul's screams that were never spoken. This is not a reading.It is an awakening from a sleep that should never have ended.