Sometimes, it’s not the stories we’re told that haunt us, but the ones we inherit without question. The prayers whispered in the dark. The trinkets worn without asking why. Belief can be a comfort… until it isn’t. Because when something is passed down for too long, you stop knowing where faith ends and fear begins.

First, mirror marks won’t fade

Followed by inherited horror

Finally in our last story, you’re getting blurry

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