What Feeds Beneath

The house on Marrow Lane looks like every other old house that has outlived the people who once believed they could fix it. Weathered siding. A tilting porch. A dark basement door off the kitchen. The kind of place a family buys because it is affordable, available, and ordinary enough to trust. But from the moment the Calloways arrive, something in the house is already awake. The smell comes first-wet, rotten, animal, wrong. Then the warmth beneath the basement door. Then the dreams. Then t...