Some houses shelter you. This one devours you.
When they moved in, it was supposed to be a fresh start. But the house had other plans.
Slime drips from the walls, shadows whisper in the corners, and her husband begins to change-his skin peeling, his mind slipping further into the house's grip. Each night brings new horrors: laughter from the attic, furniture that shifts on its own, and voices that command her to obey.
The neighbors know the truth but refuse to speak. The house has claimed families before, and it will claim again. Because this house isn't haunted-it's alive. And it's hungry.