The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the roof of the old Parrish mansion, but inside, the air was still and thick with the scent of cedar and old paper. Twelve-year-old Leo was exploring the attic when he found it—a wooden board game tucked behind a stack of moth-eaten blankets.
A high-pitched screech echoed through the attic. Before Leo could blink, the shadows in the corners shifted. Huge, leathery wings began to beat against the rafters. Dozens of oversized bats erupted from the darkness, their eyes glowing like tiny embers. The rain drummed a steady rhythm against the
He realized then that the game wasn't just a toy—it was a doorway. The only way to make the bats vanish, to stop the drumming, and to bring back the quiet was to reach the end. With shaking hands, Leo reached out from under the table and grabbed the dice. The jungle had come to him, and he had to finish the game. Before Leo could blink, the shadows in the corners shifted