lay open before him, its pages filled with accounts of rituals, sacrifices, and invocations. Melissa had been the matri

amber where the family conducted their most secret rites. The journal mentioned a door t

rned into nights as he tapped on walls, measured rooms, and searched for inconsistencies in the arch

all of the library a doorframe where there shouldn't be one. His heart raced as he pressed against

vast chamber lined with ancient symbols and artifacts. An altar stood at the center, stain

d the souls of the family to the house, granting them eternal life. But something had gone wro

s materialized, their faces twisted in anguish. The Blackwood family, bound to

and the malevolent force they had unleashed. The house was not just h

rived on the curiosity and despair of its inhabitants, drawing them into its web and feeding on th

ak the cycle, he would become the house's next victim, his

the house. He gathered the necessary items for a counter-ritual, one that

rned to screams, and shadows danced menacingly. Donald stood in the ritual ch

n hope and fear. The malevolent presence that was the house fought back,

filled the chamber, and the oppressive weight that had filled the house lifted.

o crumble. Donald escaped just as the structure col

eed countless souls from an eternity of torment. The experience changed him, deepening his understandi

at the tale of the House That Never Sleeps would serve as a warning to others