Wret

Cameroon didn’t believe in much. When they said the ritual was harmless — just five days — he agreed. A quiet house. A few strangers. A place to belong. But now, he wakes up alone. Every morning night, they’re already waiting. They never move, but he knows they’re watching. Their whispers crawl through the walls in a language he doesn’t understand. And with each passing day, the house changes — the walls breathe, the lights lie, and the rituals feel less like tradition and more like a trap. By the fifth day, Cameroon finally understands: he was never meant to leave.