Herbert's Cottage Table

The sturdy oak table occupies the cottage's main room, its surface scarred by knife marks and candle drips from years of Herbert's amateur investigations. The makeshift Ouija board sits centered on a cloth worn thin by use, its letters smudged from nervous fingers tracing answers to unspoken questions. A single oil lamp throws wavering shadows across cracked porcelain dolls arranged on a shelf, their glass eyes reflecting distorted light like silent witnesses to Herbert's growing unease. The air carries the scent of beeswax and old paper, thickened by Herbert's nervous laughter as he attempts to rationalize the unexplainable. Behind him, a narrow staircase leads to a loft where the cottage's skeletal framework groans with each wind gust, its isolation betrayed only by Herbert's clutter of star charts and occult texts piled against one wall.