an old house sitting in the middle of a forest

Once, in a quiet town nestled between dense woods, there was an old, abandoned house that everyone avoided. Locals whispered about the last family who lived there, the Morgans, who mysteriously vanished one stormy night, leaving only a flickering light in the attic. One chilly October evening, a group of friends, drawn by curiosity and a sense of adventure, dared each other to explore the house. Armed with flashlights and bravado, they crept through the creaking front door, its hinges protesting loudly as they entered. The air inside was thick with dust and the scent of decay. As they wandered through the darkened rooms, they found remnants of the past: faded photographs, dusty furniture, and a cracked mirror that seemed to hold shadows of long-gone souls. Laughter echoed nervously among them as they stumbled into the kitchen, where old dishes lay scattered on the floor, and an ancient, rusted knife caught the light from their flashlights. Suddenly, a chilling breeze swept through the house, extinguishing