The inside of the castle was just as eerie as the outside.
Ancient tapestries lined the stone walls, depicting scenes of war, death, and endless decay.
They were faded with age, some torn beyond recognition.
The cold air carried a sense of abandonment, and a faint whispering sound echoed through the halls, though no one was in sight.
Alex stepped forward cautiously, his senses sharp.
Something was off.
There was no movement, no guards, no creatures lurking in the shadows.
Last time he came here, there were at least a few undead wandering the halls, a few skeletons or ghouls standing watch.
But now?
It was empty.
The silence made his instincts scream at him.
The lack of resistance wasn't a relief, it was a warning.
His footsteps echoed against the cold stone as he moved deeper into the castle.
The deeper he went, the stronger the feeling of unease grew.
A castle ruled by an undead monarch should never be silent.
There should be movement, even if it was slow.
