Here’s an eerie and captivating introduction for *The Whispers of Blackthorn Manor*:
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For years, Blackthorn Manor stood in silence, its towering silhouette casting long shadows over the fog-laden hills. The villagers spoke of it in hushed tones, their voices laced with unease. Some claimed to have seen flickering candlelight in its windows, though no one had lived there for decades. Others swore they heard whispers drifting through the cold night air, calling out names only the wind should know.
When Evelyn Carter inherited the manor from a distant relative she had never met, she dismissed the warnings as superstition. But from the moment she crossed the threshold, the house breathed around her—its walls groaned, its chandeliers swayed without wind, and a voice, soft as a dying breath, murmured in her ear:
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