Marble Springs: Echoes of the Lost

The suffocating heat of October in Marble Springs clung to you like a second skin, a constant reminder of the town's stagnant economy and the unsettling wave of disappearances.
Driving home in your beat-up Honda Civic, the sight of two new missing persons billboards, faces frozen in smiling optimism, sent a familiar chill down your spine.
You turned into the Camelot Apartments, the faux-castle architecture a grimly ironic backdrop to your life. As you pulled into your usual spot, the engine of your car let out a final, weary sigh.
Climbing the stairs to apartment 239, the anxiety you always felt upon returning home started to build. You knew the common explanations for the disappearances—UFOs, a lake monster—but your unconventional roommates had a far more disturbing theory.
You took a deep breath, bracing yourself for whatever spectral greeting awaited you, and opened the door.
