An old, ornate grandfather clock stands in the center of a forgotten attic, its pendulum frozen mid-swing. Dust motes dance in the single be...

An old, ornate grandfather clock stands in the center of a forgotten attic, its pendulum frozen mid-swing. Dust motes dance in the single beam of light piercing the gloom from a cracked window. Faint, ethereal whispers seem to emanate from the clock's face. The style is a blend of dark, moody cinematic ...