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I never imagined that my trip to a mountain town would unleash such a tenebrous enigma. I am a writer thirsty for inspiration. What I discovered in a hidden cellar surpassed any story.
I arrived under a gray October sky. A rickety little cellar caught my attention. Inside, an aroma of herbs and aged wood filled the air.
The old man behind the counter gave me an unsettling smile. I noticed a door ajar with descending stairs. The old man warned in a raspy voice:
-Down there... there are things that must not be awakened.
In the evening, curiosity drove me back. An icy wind greeted me as I entered. I descended the stairs to a dusty cellar with antique objects.
A rustling led me to a shadowy corner where a mirror with strange symbols hung. My reflection seemed normal, until I saw a pale, pleading female figure behind me.
I fled in terror. The old man was waiting for me upstairs, his face marked by sadness.
-It was my daughter, -he murmured in a breathy voice,- She disappeared years ago.... Some say her soul was trapped, searching for rest.
Since then, a restlessness has haunted me. I have avoided entering unknown cellars, fearful of reencountering the echoes of that which I should never have disturbed.
