Hell House 2 _best_ | TRUSTED | SERIES |

"Look at me!" Jenna grabbed his face. "My brother didn't die in here. He died because he was scared for the rest of his life. We have to stop being victims."

The hallway was empty.

The Blackwood Hotel. A looming Victorian monstrosity that seemed to drink the light. It hadn't aged a day in thirty years. The wood was dark, almost black, and the windows were like cataracts, milky and blind. hell house 2

"Tell me we’re close," she whispered, checking the battery life for the fifth time.

They stepped inside. The air smelled of stale lavender and something metallic—like old blood. "Look at me

"Wind?" Jenna asked, her voice trembling.

Suddenly, the temperature plummeted. Their breath misted in the air. The heavy flashlight on the table slowly rotated, its beam sliding across the walls until it pointed directly at the second-floor landing. We have to stop being victims

The van crested the hill, and there it stood.