Delila had always loved exploring the dusty corners of her attic, a treasure trove of forgotten memories. With each creak of the wooden floor, she felt the weight of her family's history. Today, the air was thick with a strange, electric energy that made her heart race. As she rummaged through old boxes filled with yellowed letters and toys long past their prime, something shimmering caught her eye. It was an ornate picture frame, gilded and somewhat tarnished. Inside was a familiar face: her grandmother, a woman locked away in Delila's memories since she had passed away years ago. But there was something unsettling about the image—the way her grandmother’s eyes seemed to glint with mischief, as if ready to spill secrets from the beyond. Suddenly, a force she couldn’t understand surged through her, pulling her toward the frame. The world around her began to swirl, darkness enveloping her until, with a jolt, she found herself staring into her own attic once again. But this time, there stood her grandmother, alive and smiling. Only, it was not the warm smile she remembered. An unsettling glimmer filled her eyes, twisting the familiarity into something sinister.