🎵厄舍府的倒塌 | Episode 1 舍府的來信：踏入詛咒古宅前的最後警告｜ The Fall of the House of Usher: The Final Warning Before Entering the Cursed Mansion

當一封來自多年失聯好友的神秘信件送達時，敘事者踏上前往偏遠荒原的旅程。信中提及無法解釋的疾病、逐漸崩潰的精神，以及一座彷彿擁有生命的古老宅邸。隨著旅程展開，一段關於厄舍家族的黑暗傳說，也悄悄揭開序幕。

A mysterious letter arrives from a childhood friend long forgotten. Desperate words speak of fear, illness, and a decaying mansion that seems alive with a will of its own. Drawn by concern and curiosity, the narrator begins a journey into a remote wilderness, unaware that every mile brings him closer to a family curse buried beneath generations of darkness.

中文

秋末的天空總是帶著令人不安的灰色。那天下午，我正在書房整理舊文件，一名郵差送來一封沒有寄件地址的信件。泛黃的信封彷彿經歷漫長歲月才來到我的手中，而當我看見署名時，心頭不由得一震。那名字屬於羅德里克．厄舍，一位我多年未曾聯絡的故友。少年時代，我們曾一起求學，但離開學院後便逐漸失去聯繫。他像是從世上消失一般，再也沒有消息。我拆開信封，裡面的字跡凌亂而顫抖。「親愛的朋友，如果你仍記得我，請立刻前來厄舍府。我已無人可求助。一種難以形容的恐懼正在吞噬我。醫師無法解釋我的病症，我的精神正一步步崩潰，而這座宅邸似乎也正在死去。請來見我，在一切尚未太遲之前。」讀完信後，我久久無法平靜。最讓我在意的並非疾病或恐懼，而是那句奇怪的話——宅邸正在死去。究竟是一種比喻，還是真有某種不可思議的事情正在發生？當晚，我翻閱舊筆記，希望找回關於厄舍家族的記憶。那是一個歷史悠久而神秘的家族，世代居住於偏遠荒原上的古老莊園。傳聞家族成員極少與外界往來，他們擁有非凡的藝術天賦，卻也背負著奇怪的遺傳疾病。更有傳言指出，厄舍府本身受到古老詛咒束縛，與家族命運緊密相連。多年來，附近居民總是刻意避開那片土地，沒有人願意在夜晚接近那座古宅。過去我一直將這些故事視為荒誕傳說，但此刻，信中的字句卻讓我感到一絲難以言喻的不安。第二天清晨，我決定啟程前往厄舍府。離開城市後，道路逐漸荒涼，沿途的樹木在冷風中搖晃，天空始終被厚重烏雲籠罩。隨著馬車不斷前進，我感覺周圍的空氣愈發沉重，就連拉車的馬匹也顯得焦躁不安。傍晚時分，我抵達一座小村莊。那裡是前往厄舍府前最後的聚落。我在村中的旅店過夜，並向店主詢問厄舍家族的近況。沒想到，原本熱情的老人一聽見厄舍這個名字，臉色瞬間變得蒼白。周圍的客人也紛紛安靜下來，用奇怪的眼神看著我。「如果可以，別去那裡。」老人低聲說。我詢問原因，他沉默許久才回答。近年來，許多人在夜裡聽見來自古宅方向的奇怪聲音。有時像女人哭泣，有時像遙遠鐘聲，有時甚至像有人被困在牆壁裡不斷敲打。他強調那些聲音出現時往往沒有風，因此不可能只是自然現象。更可怕的是，三個月前，一名獵人進入古宅附近的森林後便再也沒有回來。那晚，我躺在旅店房間裡，卻始終無法入睡。午夜時分，一陣若有若無的歌聲從遠方傳來。歌聲哀傷而飄忽，彷彿穿越濃霧而來。我推開窗戶，外面只有無盡黑暗。就在此時，一道閃電劃破夜空。短暫的白光照亮遠方山丘，一座龐大的古老宅邸赫然出現在視野之中。它孤獨地矗立於荒原盡頭，尖塔刺向陰沉天空，破敗牆壁如同腐朽骸骨。最令人不安的是，整座建築中央有一道巨大的裂痕，自屋頂一路延伸至地基，彷彿隨時會將整座宅邸撕成兩半。當閃電消失，黑暗再次吞噬世界。然而那座古宅的輪廓，已深深刻印在我的腦海裡。我知道，那就是厄舍府。我也知道，真正的恐怖，才正要開始。

English Version

The sky carried a dull and unsettling shade of gray as autumn neared its end. That afternoon, while organizing old papers in my study, a postman delivered a letter with no return address. The envelope was faded and worn, as though it had traveled through many forgotten years before reaching my door. The moment I saw the signature, a chill passed through me. It was from Roderick Usher, a friend I had not heard from in ages. We had spent our youth together, sharing classrooms and dreams, yet time eventually scattered us in different directions. For decades, he had vanished from my life without a trace. Curious and uneasy, I broke the seal. The handwriting inside trembled across the page. Roderick pleaded for my immediate presence at Usher House. He spoke of a strange affliction beyond the understanding of doctors, of a mind slowly collapsing beneath invisible pressure, and of a mansion that seemed to be dying alongside him. His words were filled with desperation, but one sentence lingered in my thoughts above all others. How could a house be dying? That night, I searched through old journals and memories. The Usher family had always been surrounded by whispers. Their ancestral estate stood isolated on a remote stretch of wilderness, hidden from the rest of the world. The family was known for remarkable artistic talent, yet also for mysterious illnesses that seemed to pass from one generation to the next. Locals often claimed that the house itself shared a connection with the bloodline, as though stone and flesh were bound by the same fate. I had dismissed such stories as superstition in my younger years, but now the strange letter forced me to reconsider. By dawn, I had resolved to make the journey. The further I traveled from civilization, the more desolate the landscape became. Empty roads stretched across bleak countryside beneath heavy clouds. Twisted trees swayed in the cold wind, and even the horses pulling my carriage appeared increasingly nervous. As evening approached, I arrived at a small village, the final settlement before the wilderness surrounding Usher House. I spent the night at a modest inn and asked the owner about the family. The old man’s expression changed instantly. The warmth in his eyes vanished, replaced by unmistakable fear. Around us, conversations faded as other guests listened in silence. He advised me not to continue my journey. When I pressed him for an explanation, he reluctantly shared unsettling rumors. Villagers often heard strange sounds drifting from the direction of the mansion. Sometimes it was the distant crying of a woman. Sometimes it resembled bells ringing across an empty landscape. At other times, it sounded like desperate knocking coming from inside stone walls. According to the old man, these noises appeared on windless nights, making them impossible to dismiss as natural occurrences. He also told me of a hunter who had entered the nearby forest months earlier and never returned. The story stayed with me long after I retired to my room. Sleep refused to come. Near midnight, I heard faint singing carried across the darkness. The melody was sorrowful and distant, as though emerging from another world. I opened the window and looked into the night. Nothing could be seen beyond endless shadows. Then a bolt of lightning tore across the sky. For a brief moment, the landscape flashed into view. On a distant hill stood an enormous mansion. Its towers rose like black spears against the clouds. The walls appeared ancient and decayed, resembling the bones of some colossal creature. Most disturbing of all was a jagged crack running through the center of the structure, stretching from the roof to the foundation below. It looked less like damage and more like a wound. Darkness returned as quickly as the lightning vanished. Yet the image remained burned into my memory. I knew without doubt that I had seen Usher House. And somewhere deep inside, I sensed that the true horror waiting there had only just begun.