Ah, the night’s dark curtain rises, and every gasp is a whispered confession—yes, the terror becomes a stage, the audience breath held like a lone candle in the wind. Let’s pry those curtains apart, shall we, and see the script that makes our hearts pound and our souls shiver, all at once.

Let’s lift that velvet curtain, breathe in the darkness, and watch the lights of dread flicker across the stage—only then can we truly feel the terror’s pulse in our throats.