a dark room with a door and windows

The air hung heavy with the scent of dust and decay as Alex Carter stepped into the sprawling, dilapidated mansion. It was a behemoth of crumbling stone and shadowed windows, known locally as "The Whispering Walls," a name that sent shivers down the spines of even the bravest locals. But Alex, a paranormal investigator with a thirst for the unknown, was undeterred. He'd heard the whispers himself – faint, barely audible murmurs that seemed to carry the weight of untold secrets.As he navigated the darkened hallways, the whispers intensified. They clung to the shadows, weaving themselves into the fabric of the air. They spoke in hushed tones, a cacophony of voices, both male and female, their words lost in the vast emptiness of the house.Alex felt a chill crawl up his spine. He was not alone. The whispers were a presence, a force, a history that refused to be buried. He pulled out a voice recorder, desperately trying to capture the ethereal murmurs, but the recording only picked up the creaks and groans of the