Dear Reader,
I hope this letter finds you well. I am writing to share with you a spine-chilling horror thriller story that took place in the heart of Patna, near Gandhi Maidan. The story I am about to tell you is based on true events and will be written in the epistolary style, as per your request.
It was a dark and stormy night when I found myself wandering the streets of Patna. The rain poured relentlessly, drenching me to the bone. Seeking shelter, I stumbled upon Gol Ghar, a magnificent structure that stood tall and ominous against the night sky. Little did I know that this place held a dark secret, one that would haunt me forever.
As I entered Gol Ghar, I felt an eerie presence surrounding me. The air grew colder, and a sense of unease settled in my bones. I decided to explore the building, hoping to uncover its mysteries. The first room I entered was filled with old photographs and dusty books. The walls seemed to whisper secrets, and the silence was deafening.
Curiosity got the better of me, and I continued my exploration. As I climbed the creaking stairs, I noticed a door at the end of the hallway. It was slightly ajar, inviting me to enter. With trembling hands, I pushed it open, revealing a room filled with ancient artifacts and peculiar symbols etched into the walls.
Suddenly, a gust of wind blew through the room, extinguishing the only source of light. Panic set in as I fumbled in the darkness, desperately searching for an exit. But the door had vanished, leaving me trapped in this sinister place. The walls seemed to close in on me, and I could hear whispers echoing in my ears.
As I stumbled through the darkness, I felt a presence behind me. I turned around, only to be met with a pair of glowing red eyes. A chilling voice whispered, "You should not have come here." Fear consumed me as I realized I was not alone. The spirits of those who had perished in this place were seeking revenge, and I was their next victim.
I ran blindly, trying to escape the clutches of the malevolent spirits. The walls seemed to shift and change, leading me deeper into the labyrinth of Gol Ghar. The whispers grew louder, their words incomprehensible yet filled with malice. I could feel their icy breath on my neck, their presence suffocating me.
Just as I thought all hope was lost, a faint glimmer of light appeared in the distance. I followed it, my heart pounding in my chest. The light led me to a hidden passage, and I raced towards it, desperate for freedom. As I emerged from Gol Ghar, the storm had subsided, and the night was calm once more.
I collapsed on the ground, gasping for air, grateful to have escaped the clutches of Gol Ghar. From that day forward, I vowed never to return to that cursed place. The horrors I witnessed within its walls will forever haunt my dreams, a constant reminder of the evil that lurks in the heart of Patna.
I hope this epistolary tale has sent shivers down your spine, dear reader. May you never find yourself in the grip of Gol Ghar's malevolent spirits.
Yours sincerely,
Ivan Edwin Pen Name--Maximus,
A Survivor.
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