In the quiet community of Furman, Alabama, an old house still stands — its white siding fading beneath the moss-draped oaks, its brick chimneys watching over more than a century of secrets. But what chills folks most isn’t inside the Purifoy-Lipscomb House. It’s what lies just behind it.
There, in a ring of earth where nothing grows, locals say you can still hear it — a man’s desperate voice rising from the ground, pleading to be freed.
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Published on 1 week, 6 days ago
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