The two doors were not locked, but half-open, indicating how hasty the men had left at the time.

Lorraine took a deep breath, raised her hand and pushed, and the door opened.

A cold aura instantly hit his face.

"Ahem." A puff of dust that seemed to smell of decay suddenly burrowed into the nasal cavity and trachea, choking Lorraine with a violent cough.

Lorraine raised her hand and waved the dust in the air.

With a "creak", the heavy and old wooden door made a piercing and stiff sound in the silent and empty old house.

Like an old man in his last years, in the dark, slowly and mechanically opened his cloudy and godless eyes.

Quietly staring at the people who came to him.

Lorraine's hairs stood on end.

Brave enough to look inside, it was pitch black.

Only the only light and shadow that penetrated through the crack in the door was cast on the cold ground.

Lorraine lifted her foot and stepped in.

Stepping in with him, there is also his shadow.

Lorraine instantly felt a lot more at ease.

However, in the next second, he would feel as if his ear had been touched by something cold, like a gust of wind, gently, cool.

Lorraine froze.

However, there was no wind around, so this cold was not blown in by the doorway.

He stood for a moment, and the feeling disappeared again.

It was as if everything was nothing more than an illusion of his excessive fear.

As soon as the soles of the feet hit the ground, the cold air from the ground brushed up and wrapped up, along the footboards, and then to the calves, a wisp of silk, a wisp, and after a while, the whole body was cold.

As soon as he entered the room, in the darkness, a hand seemed to reach out silently, and the door behind him was silently shut.

Lorraine's heart skipped a beat, and she turned her head to look at it suddenly.

No one.

Not even the slightest rumor.

He shone it with a flashlight, and in an instant, the hairs on his back immediately stood on end.

At some point, a clear handprint was printed on the back of the dusty wooden door.

A mudra with only four fingers.

Yes, the tail finger is missing.

Ghosts.

And it's in this room.

Even, it may be floating next to him at this moment, staring at himself silently with a pair of cruel and cold eyes.

It was the only thought that flashed through Lorraine's mind at this moment.

Lorraine stiffened her neck and looked around.

It's quiet.

But nothing has changed.

Lorraine held back the strong trembling calf, clenched the flashlight in his hand, and shook it into the dark and cold hall.

The next second, he was taken aback.

I saw that on the wall in the center of the hall, a large black and white posthumous photo came into view.

It was a man, in his mid-fifties.

A pair of majestic and powerful eyes, in the dark, staring at themselves quietly, for a moment.

At that moment, Lorraine almost knelt down and called her mother.

Secretly cheering himself up, he looked down and found a thin layer of ash under the table next to the wall.

If you look closely, you can see that it is burned out of paper money or something.

Other than that, there is nothing out of the ordinary.

Lorraine took a deep breath and swept her eyes to the stairs in the corner of the room.

Suppressing the fear that surged up in his heart, he slowly walked towards the stairs.

Upstairs.

The staircase is old and covered with dust.

As soon as I stepped on it, it squeaked, and I always felt that it would collapse in the next second.

Lorraine held up the flashlight, and the light of the flashlight shone down, reflecting a short shadow behind him.