House horror / haunted Mansion cookie cutter

thingiverse

The old mansion loomed before me, its turrets reaching towards the sky like skeletal fingers. I had always been drawn to such places, where darkness and despair seemed to seep from every stone. This one was no exception - a house of horrors, where witches once danced in the dead of night, their black robes swirling around them like a maelstrom. As I stepped inside, a chill ran down my spine. The air was thick with the scent of decay, and cobwebs clung to my face like ghostly fingers. Every step creaked beneath my feet, as if the house itself was warning me to turn back. But I pressed on, driven by a morbid curiosity. The rooms were just as I had imagined - a cookie-cutter horror show, with doors leading to more and more terrors. A haunted kitchen, where pots and pans hung like the skeletal remains of some long-dead meal. A nursery, where toys seemed to leer at me from the shadows. And then, there was the basement. A place so dark, it seemed to suck the very light out of the air. I felt a presence down there, something ancient and evil, waiting for its next victim.