The fire was supposed to end it.

When Alastar Manor burned to the ground, they thought the nightmare died with it. But evil doesn't burn. It waits. And the ashes of that cursed land have given rise to something new. Alastar Heights. A shiny modern neighborhood built on ground that was never meant to be touched again.

At first, it feels perfect. Fresh paint. Smiling neighbors. Families trying to start over. But the land remembers. Every ritual. Every scream. Every drop of blood spilled in that house. And the demon bound to it is hungry again.

Lights flicker. Doors breathe. Voices whisper from the walls. People begin to see things they can't explain. Others don't live long enough to try. Because this isn't a haunting. It's possession. A curse that moves through flesh, feeds on fear, and destroys everything it touches.

The demon survived the fire.
And now it's done hiding.

This is not subtle horror. When the curse strikes, it's brutal, bloody, and final.

Alastar Heights.
Welcome to the neighborhood.
Welcome to Hell.