The moment I stepped into this creaky Victorian, craving a fresh start, things escalated. On the first night, deafening bangs jolted me awake-I brushed them off as fragments of a dream. My housemates were pretty dismissive of what I was experiencing. Yet, oddities kept piling up. One day, I discovered a recent bank statement boasting seven digits for Barbara. The only problem? She was a former tenant, previously living in my room, who had gone missing more than a year ago. And that old lady, Mrs. Morgan, who for some reason chose to live in the basement despite being confined to a wheelchair, remained tight-lipped about the past. Four locked rooms whispered clues I couldn't reach, with keys long swallowed by time. Digging into Barbara's mystery, I uncovered my housemates' deceit. Their plot thickened when a psychiatrist showed up to check on my "recovery"-news to me, having never been near a psych ward in my entire life. My last clear memory was of swiping an empty cyanide bottle as cops swarmed my old place over a flatmate incident. Now, donned in a patient gown, they think they've outwitted me. Little do they know, we're just getting started...
12 parts