Shrieking Manor: The Tickle Experiments

The air bites at your exposed skin as you and your friends, Jason, Courtney, and Benny, trudge through the barren woods. Leaves crunch under your boots, and the skeletal branches of trees claw at the gray sky.

“How much farther is this place?” Courtney whines, her voice thin against the wind. You shiver, pulling your thin jacket tighter around you.

Benny, peering at his phone, calls out, “Maybe another couple miles.” A collective groan rises from the group.

Suddenly, Jason, who had been leading, stops dead. He throws his head over his shoulder, a look of pure terror on his face.

“Guys,” he says, his voice trembling. “I—I thought I heard something.”

Through the trees, a clearing appears, and in it stands the object of your dread – Shrieking Manor. Its clay stone walls are blackened and overgrown, shredded drapes hang from shattered windows. It looks exactly as the local legends described.