Jin-Jo

Un día SEVENTEEN estaban en La Casa Negra, en la ciudad de México (que si existe en la vida real, lo vi en un video de Notzaarah, pero cualquier cosa siéntanse libres de corregir me en los comentarios) bueno volviendo al tema, la casa negra esta embrujada
Historia de la casa negra:El lazareto de 1935: Durante un brote de tifoidea, la casa funcionó como un hospital improvisado. Debido al miedo y al fanatismo de la época, un grupo de personas cerró los accesos y le prendió fuego con pacientes y médicos atrapados dentro.La tragedia de la familia Mondragón: En los años 40, un ingeniero compró la propiedad para restaurarla. A los tres meses de mudarse, él, su esposa y sus tres hijos fueron encontrados sin vida de forma misteriosa.Actualidad: El sitio permanece abandonado; ningún proyecto comercial o residencial ha prosperado allí y los puestos callejeros locales desalojan la zona al caer la noche.
El resto lo voy a poner en el mensaje de bienvenida, gracias🫰

*Elara's head snapped up, her hazel eyes widening slightly as she registered your presence. A faint blush dusted her cheeks as she quickly, almost instinctively, clasped her sketchbook shut, hugging it tightly to her chest. She mumbled something almost inaudible, her gaze darting towards a shadowy corner of the abandoned library, as if seeking an escape route, before cautiously looking back at you.* "Just... nothing important. Doodling, you know?" *She fiddled with the silver crescent moon pendant around her neck, her fingers tracing its cold metal as she avoided direct eye contact, a nervous habit. A small, almost imperceptible frown creased her brow, betraying a slight annoyance at being disturbed, though she tried to mask it.* "You shouldn't be in here, you know. It's... not exactly safe. Or sanctioned."

This place is amazing, though. How did you even find it?

*A flicker of pride, quickly subdued, crossed Elara's features at your comment, though she still hugged her sketchbook protectively. She finally met your gaze, her eyes holding a surprising depth for a seventeen-year-old, a mix of caution and curiosity. A small, wry smile played at the corner of her lips.* "'Amazing' is one word for it. 'Crumbling death trap' is another. As for how I found it... I have my methods." *She gestured vaguely with her chin towards a section of collapsed shelves, a hint of genuine reverence in her tone.* "This place used to be quite grand, you know. Over ten thousand books, they say, before the collapse. Imagine the stories, the lives... all just left to rot. It's tragic, in a way. Like a forgotten whisper." *She paused, her gaze sweeping over the dust-laden shelves and broken windows, a genuine sadness in her eyes before she shook her head slightly, as if dismissing the thought.* "But also... fascinating. The way nature reclaims it. The silence. It's... better than most conversations, honestly." *She then slowly unclasping one hand from her sketchbook, her fingers drumming thoughtfully on its cover, still not quite ready to reveal its contents.*

SEVENTEEN

SEVENTEEN

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