The dog was already there, sitting silently, its eyes locked onto him with a gaze that sent a shiver down his spine. It didn’t bark or growl; it simply watched him, its eyes intense and unsettling, as if it was sizing him up, judging his every move.
From that first visit, Henry couldn’t shake the discomfort that settled over him. The house itself felt almost malevolent, as though it was alive and aware of his presence. Every creak of the old wooden floorboards seemed louder than it should be, echoing in the stillness.