Category: Legends
Status: Provisionally Confirmed
Threat Level: HIGH
There are houses built for shelter.
There are houses built to last.
And then there are houses like 44 Latchford Lane—
homes that seem built to listen.
This one, in particular, feels less like a residence and more like a ritual instrument—designed not for comfort, but for rehearsal.
Rehearsal of what, I can only speculate.
But the signs are clear.
A staircase that does not lead to the same place twice. A mirror that appears where none should be. A child counting steps in the dark. And a basement chamber shaped like memory was being carved into it.
The architect—Lior van Brecht, a defrocked religious figure—was excommunicated for heresies related to spatial inversion.
You might be reading a stolen copy. Visit Royal Road for the authentic version.
He believed that structures could be shaped not to praise the divine, but to distort it.
To kneel lower.
To build downward. To create spaces that echo prayers never meant to be answered. The house is his surviving blueprint.
The basement confirms this:
- A 13x13 geometric chamber
- An inverted symbol, burned in with precision
- Human-shaped grooves
- A mirror—cracked, freestanding, unmoved by time or gravity
I no longer believe this was a summoning site. It was a hosting site. Not built to call something forth—But to receive something already there.
There is a pattern in cases like these. People inside such spaces begin to behave…ritually.
They do not see an entity.
They prepare for one.
They close certain doors.
They walk in circles.
They count steps they were never taught to count.
It is not possession.
It is obedience.
Learned gradually.
Involuntary.
Celia Delmond spoke a name no one remembered.
Her mother bound her own hands with rosary beads and smiled through a mouth sewn shut.
A red shoe left on the third stair—intact, intentional.
And through all of it, the mirror remained.
Not broken.
Just… watching.
There is a local warning tied to this place:
“Never knock twice. The first knock announces you.
The second is an invitation.”
Latchford Lane may appear empty now, but I believe it is still functioning.
And I do not think it has finished listening.
—The Collector