The night was thick and black as ink, and the moonlight barely broke through the clouds, barely illuminating the old ivy-covered gate. Martha, Adam and Lena stood speechless for a moment, as if waiting for a sign. Beyond the gate, exactly where they had vowed years ago never to return, waited the House under the Broken Moon. Marta clutched the key she had recently found among her grandmother's mementos. The hearts of the three friends beat faster. Adam laughed nervously, trying to relieve the tension. - 'It's just a house,' he said. But even he sounded like someone who didn't believe it. Years ago, as children, they had found strange records in this place, mysterious lockers and objects that didn't belong to them. Then something happened that they didn't want to remember. Now, as adults, they have decided to return to face the unexplained past. As they walked through the garden, they felt that every step brought back old memories. The front door creaked open as if it was the last time they had closed it. Inside, they were greeted by a chill, the smell of dust and something else - the delicate scent of lavender, the favourite scent of the house's now-defunct owner. Lena was the first to notice something lying on the floor in the hall that hadn't been there before. A book bound in dark blue leather, with a moon symbol on the cover. Martha reached for it, and Adam and Lena held their breath as they saw the pages begin to turn on their own, stopping at the page with the inscription: "If you are reading this, the hour of trial has arrived. The truth is waiting in the attic." A quiet rustle came from above them, as if someone was carefully moving something above their heads. They looked at each other, knowing that all the children's legends about this house might not be purely a figment of their imagination at all. With trembling hands, Marta lifted the candles and Adam moved first up the creaking stairs towards the attic. Each step seemed louder than the last. Lena followed close behind them, clutching a key and a book in her hand. In the attic, in the semi-darkness, candlelight brought an old trunk out of the shadows. On its lid, apart from the dust, was now a freshly engraved mark - the same one on the book. The attic door slammed behind them with a sudden bang, and something moved in the trunk....