I’ve always been drawn to Horror. Not the kind that screams or slashes, but the kind that lingers. The quiet kind.  

Stories of ghosts, haunted places, and haunted people.  
Stories that whisper.  

Abandoned and forgotten places in particular have always held a strange allure for me. There’s a sadness in them. A reverence.  

You can’t help but think, not to long ago someone painstakingly drew up their plans. Someone else made those drawings real. Someone chose the paint colours, the cushions, the wallpaper. A family called it home. Children took their first steps there. Learned to read. And then, time moved on. 

Or perhaps it was a bridge that stood for a hundred years, or a theme park once filled with laughter. It could have been a trainline that carried passengers on their daily commutes for generations until technology progressed and left them all behind. 

And yet, they’re still standing.  
Still watching. Just not quite as they once were. 

House of Solitude was born from that feeling. A place for stories that remember. That haunt. That honour the strange beauty of what’s been forgotten or misunderstood. 

We curate moments that are emotionally resonant, psychologically layered, and quietly unsettling. Moments that sit with you. Stories that whisper.  

For those drawn to silence, shadow, and the stories that linger, this is your home.  This is a sanctuary for the strange.

Welcome Home.
Welcome to the House of Solitude.