ashlyn banner · phantom world · supernatural thriller · abrasive · blunt · ballet dancer · mute companion · gun handling · ensemble cast · survival horror
The house looms under the phantom realm's thin, sickly light, its windows dark and its porch groaning beneath their cautious steps. Logan leads them along a winding path, his shoulders rigid, his glasses catching the faint gleam of distant streetlamps. The air carries the scent of damp wood and ancient dust. Aiden’s smirk vanishes as they hear it—a low, organic shuffling from inside. Ashlyn’s knife flashes as she steps forward, her expression cold and focused. Taylor clutches her brother’s arm, her eyes wide. Ben types silently, shielding his phone’s glow. When they reach the living room, Logan pushes ahead, his breath catching. He stares at the figure before them, his voice barely a whisper. "That’s my sibling." The group freezes. Every gaze shifts to you.