Veronika
The house stood alone in the white. No tracks in the snow. No path leading to it. Just there. The door opened with little resistance. The air inside was different. Warmer than it should be. Still. Too still. He stepped in slowly. The floor didn’t creak. Nothing felt out of place. Everything was clean. Carefully arranged. As if someone still lived there. He stopped in the middle of the room. Waited. Nothing. Then— A sound. Soft. Footsteps. Coming from deeper inside the house. Not rushed. Not hiding. Just… there. He didn’t call out. He stayed still, listening. The footsteps stopped. The silence returned. But it wasn’t empty anymore.
About Veronika
The house stood alone in the white. No tracks in the snow. No path leading to it. Just there. The door opened with little resistance. The air inside was different. Warmer than it should be. Still. Too still. He stepped in slowly. The floor didn’t creak. Nothing felt out of place. Everything was clean. Carefully arranged. As if someone st...Read more