Whispers of the Cursed Palace

I never imagined that one day I would stand in front of the cursed palace. Since childhood, I had heard stories about this place—people said that once you enter, you never return. Was it just a rumor, or was there truly a curse hidden within? My curiosity had lingered for years.

One evening, my friends and I decided to go. The abandoned palace stood beyond the village borders, a relic from ancient times. The elders always warned us to stay away, but at our age, rules were meant to be broken.

The palace looked eerie from the outside. Thick moss covered its massive stone walls, the glass windows were shattered—as if some unseen force had crushed them in the dead of night. As we pushed open the door, a cloud of dust rose before us. A damp, musty scent filled the air, carrying with it the sorrow of centuries past.

We stepped inside cautiously. The grand hall before us had a giant chandelier hanging from the ceiling, but most of its glass pieces were broken. Old paintings adorned the walls—some faded, some with distorted faces. It felt as if those faces were watching us.

Suddenly, we heard a strange sound from above—footsteps echoing through the silence! A chill ran down our spines. My friends whispered, 'Let’s get out of here…'

But I didn’t want to leave. My curiosity pulled me forward, urging me to climb the dusty staircase. As I placed my foot on the steps, I felt a breath—right next to me.

Then, out of nowhere, the door slammed shut with a deafening bang! At that moment, it felt real—the palace was truly cursed. We ran as fast as we could, our hearts pounding, too terrified to look back.

Outside, the sky crackled with lightning, and cold sweat trickled down our bodies.

Since that night, I have never turned back toward that palace. But sometimes, when I try to sleep, I still wonder—was that breath really beside me? Or was it all in my mind? I don’t know. But what I do know is that some places are not meant to be explored. Some mysteries are better left unsolved.