Clink

"The clinking of chains..."

They said you were sick. Prescribed pills. Begged you to stay in touch.

But you chose solitude — just you, your cat, and the old house.

"The clinking of chains..."

You wake up, as always, to feed your cat. But something is off: one of the doors is locked, and the key is nowhere to be found. A metallic ringing echoes in your head. In the bathroom, something rotten flickers into sight—then vanishes.

And on the mirror... a note from your childhood doll.

Memories stir. Your grandmother’s curse — forgotten, but never gone.

"The clinking of chains..."

Why did she do this to you?

"The clinking of chains..."

As you explore the house, you piece the doll back together — and suddenly, a hidden passage appears in the garage. It leads to a world from your dreams. Or your past. Or your madness.

Endless stairways, coffins in the walls, worm-infested tunnels. They call to you — and terrify you all the same.

"The clinking of chains..."

What is that damned sound echoing in your mind?