Your decisions shape the echoes that rise from the dead. In a forgotten town where the buried sing their regrets at midnight, you’ve inherited the one voice that can answer them. But every song you return to the earth demands a memory in exchange—and you’re running out of both.

Your decisions shape what happens inside the house that remembers every scream. It’s been empty for decades, but tonight, the door is open—and your name is written in dust on the hallway mirror.

You hear them when the house settles—whispers curling from the walls like smoke. Not dreams. Not madness. They know your name. They’ve been waiting. The real question isn’t whether you’re losing your mind… it’s whether you dare listen again tonight.

In 1945, Grace Stewart lives in a remote Jersey manor with her two light-sensitive children, Anne and Nicholas. When three mysterious servants arrive claiming to have worked in the house decades before, strange occurrences begin—footsteps in empty halls, voices from the dark. Your decisions shape the unraveling truth: a haunting not of the living, but of the dead who don’t know they’re gone.

I never asked to be psychic. I never wanted friends. And I certainly didn’t volunteer to save Jericho from a centuries-old grudge wrapped in monster skin. But here I am—knee-deep in bloodied snow, a dead raven in my hand, and the voice of a long-dead girl whispering through my dreams. The Hyde isn’t just some beast; it’s a weapon. And someone is aiming it at Nevermore. If I don’t unravel the truth before the next attack, Enid will be next. Maybe me too.

Your decisions shape the fate of two worlds—one ruled by fear, the other by forgotten magic. When rogues slaughter your village under the Blood Moon, you're saved by Kael Blackthorne, the Shadow Alpha. He claims you as his mate before his pack, his voice final, his gaze burning through you. You don’t understand why he chose you. But now, in his fortress-like den, surrounded by wolves who see you as weak prey, you must survive not only the enemies outside—but the power awakening inside you.

You shouldn’t have come back. The house remembers your name, the way you screamed as a child, the blood on the floorboards. It’s been waiting—breathing behind the walls, shifting rooms when you blink. Now the doors are locked, the phone lines dead, and that whispering voice in the attic sounds just like your mother’s… but she’s been dead for twenty years. This isn’t a haunting. This is inheritance.

You weren’t supposed to look through it. The window wasn’t even there yesterday. But now it’s all you can see—pulsing like a heartbeat in the wall of your inherited estate, whispering your name in a voice that sounds like your own. Locals call this place 'Harrowick House,' cursed for generations. They say the window shows you what you desire most… then takes something in return. You’ve already seen your dead sister smile from the other side. And tonight, it’s calling her name.

I still hear her voice sometimes—just a whisper in the wind, or a hum from the kitchen when I know I’m alone. Three months ago, Clara vanished without a trace. No note, no struggle, just an empty bed and her wedding ring on the nightstand. The police closed the case. But I can’t. Because last night, I found a photograph that wasn’t mine. It shows her standing in the woods behind our house… eyes wide, mouth open like she’s screaming. And it was taken yesterday.

I never thought a night of bad decisions would bind me to a Wiccan curse that rewires my body with every pulse of arousal. Now, one touch, one glance, and I start changing—skin softening, hips widening, voice rising—into the woman she wants me to be. The more I crave, the less of 'me' remains. And worst of all? Part of me is starting to like it.

He was the definition of invisible—pale from years indoors, clothes perpetually wrinkled, eyes dulled by endless scrolling. A 23-year-old NEET who had perfected the art of doing nothing. His world was confined to four walls, instant ramen, and online forums where no one knew his face. But all that changed the moment a cold, mechanical voice sliced through his apathy. [Ding! You have been successfully bound to the Stardom System.] No warning. No escape. Just a single mission: Gain 10,000 followers. And if he failed? The system wasn't vague about it—'Termination will occur.' Now, dragged from obscurity into a glittering, cutthroat audition show with fifty elite contestants, he must become someone worth watching… or die trying.

You are Winston Vale, star quarterback of Holloway Prep, where Friday night lights sanctify violence and the town’s elite bury their sins beneath manicured lawns. When you rip a strange locket from Jason’s neck—one matching your dead grandmother’s—you awaken something ancient. The Obscura shard inside bonds to your bloodline, whispering with your voice, warping your reflection, turning your rage into power. One eye glows red. The mirror smiles when you don’t. Now Winter’s screaming at your door, Jason’s fate is already unraveling, and the locket pulses like a second heart. You can flush it and lie to yourself—pretend the hunger isn’t real. Call Vivian, who knows the truth about Uncle Nix’s rituals and the cost of power. Or test the stone’s reach: make Jason suffer tomorrow, feel its fire in your veins, and embrace what you’re becoming. But the Veil Council watches. The Eclipse Covenant waits. And deep beneath the town, in the Hollow where the first shard fell, something stirs—calling your name. Every choice feeds the curse. Every act binds you tighter. Will you destroy it? Control it? Or become the Crimson Heir it was always meant to crown?

Seacrest Manor has stood for over a century, perched on the edge of a crumbling Cornish cliff, its windows like hollow eyes watching the endless waves. Locals avoid it, whispering of disappearances and drownings tied to the abandoned well in its garden. Now, Elara Vance has come—seeking peace, inspiration, a fresh start. But the house remembers. And it hungers. The air inside is too still, the silence too complete. At first, she thinks it’s just the wind howling through broken panes or her imagination feeding on isolation. Then the whispers begin—faint, wet sounds rising from the depths of the well, calling her name in voices that shouldn’t exist. This is not a haunting. It’s a possession. A slow, deliberate unraveling. The Entity doesn’t want to scare her. It wants to become her.

Born without a voice, Mercury Roderick possesses an extraordinary gift: the ability to foresee tragic events and manipulate the world with her mind. But her powers are a double-edged sword, attracting unseen entities and thrusting her into a dangerous world beyond human comprehension. Can a silent guardian protect those she loves, or will her unique curse lead to their undoing?

Shannie's world shatters when her aunt casts her out into a storm-swept night, only to be struck by a car and awaken in a dark, disorienting void. A sinister voice offers salvation, but at a terrifying price: vengeance. As Shannie grapples with a burgeoning, uncontrollable urge to kill, Rafael, a man consumed by grief, searches for answers to his mother's brutal murder. Their paths converge in a chilling tale of possession, retribution, and the dark forces that bind them. Will Shannie succumb to the monster within, or can she break free before her soul is irrevocably lost? And will Rafael find justice, or become another victim in a twisted game of fate?