Time for another experiment. Beginning tomorrow, for the 13 days leading up to Halloween, I will be rewriting this story in 13 different styles, reflecting the various horror subgenres as part of my Thirteen For Halloween series. So, feel free to come back and weigh in with your opinion of which style worked the best!

Though dilapidated, the mansion, long forgotten by the residents of the nearby towns, was shrouded by a history of betrayal and sorrow. Within its husk, Anaïs lay upon an antique chaise lounge. The ornate carvings on its wooden frame told tales of generations past, and its faded fabric bore witness to countless secrets. Her lifeless form, dressed in a once-vibrant gown, was surrounded by shadows that seemed to mourn her death.

As the grandfather clock chimed midnight, a gust of wind from a broken window pane stirred the room. Anaïs’s eyes flickered open, revealing a sinister gleam that pierced through the gloom. A wicked smile, borne of ancient grudges and suppressed rage, curled upon her lips. Slowly, she rose, as if buoyed by the dark energies of the mansion itself.

The cold, metallic scent of blood hung in the air, a remnant of the betrayal that had led to her untimely demise. Freed from her mortal constraints, a malevolent aura enveloped her, its chill seeping into the mansion’s very stones.

Whispers from ancestral portraits lining the hallway seemed to recognize her transformation, their painted eyes following her ethereal movements. The world beyond the mansion’s heavy oak doors remained blissfully ignorant of the vengeful spirit they had awakened.

Venturing forth, Anaïs’s path was illuminated by the pale moonlight, her silhouette a harbinger of doom. The hunger for revenge and chaos burned within her, and she reveled in the power of her spectral existence.

In a nearby village, the townsfolk slept soundly, unaware of the shadow creeping into their dreams. Those unfortunate enough to cross her path were met with visions of their darkest fears, a taste of the terror Anaïs would soon unleash.

As dawn’s first light threatened the horizon, the village church bell tolled, its somber notes a warning to all. The world would soon witness the wrath of a spirit wronged, for Anaïs, with her dark legacy, had returned.

Beware, for as the sun gave way to another night, the vengeful specter of Anaïs prepared to etch her malevolence onto the world. The mansion’s dark history had come alive, and no soul was safe from its haunting grip.