My Husband Said Floor 4 Didn't Exist While Draining My $145,000 Savings—Until His Ex Revealed The 1912 Pact Sealed Above Our Bedroom
👉 Previous decision: You chose to breach Floor 4 together, with Clara reading the documents aloud.
“Nadia, the toolkit!” I yelled, adrenaline surging.
Nadia, a woman who always came prepared, was already fumbling for the lock picks. With a decisive click, the heavy interior door opened.
“Julian, move!” Clara commanded.
I grabbed Nadia’s emergency tool kit, selecting a heavy-duty shear. With a grunt, I forced the tool onto the rusted iron latch of Floor 4’s hidden door. Metal screamed as it tore, bending backward.
The door burst open, revealing the absolute darkness of the 1912 corridor. A blast of sub-zero air hit us, bringing with it the familiar scent of old sulfur and burnt paper.
We stepped inside, Nadia’s powerful flashlight beam cutting through the gloom. Julian, stumbling in behind us, fell to his knees, his hands clasped over his ears. He let out a strangled cry as a towering shadow loomed at the far end of the hallway.
The temperature plummeted further, to below freezing. The air grew thick, pressing in on us. The entity, a formless mass of deepening shadow, stepped forward. Its heavy footsteps echoed off the unpainted floorboards, a sound I had heard countless times from below.
Clara stepped into the center of the hall, directly facing the advancing shadow. Her hands were steady. She opened the yellowed property ledger under her flashlight beam, its pages rustling like dry leaves.
“Listen to this, Arthur Lindqvist!” she called out, her voice clear and strong. “Listen to the truth you’ve been denied!”
The shadow entity paused, its form wavering slightly. It seemed to recoil from the light, from the sound of a voice not steeped in fear.
➡️ Read CHAPTER 16 to continue the story.
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