CRIMSON WHISPERS IN THE DARK

The shadows danced with a life of its own, twisting and turning as if chattering secrets to the moonstarsnight. A chill ran through me, not from the cold, but from a presence that clung to the air like fog. The crimson light, faint yet persistent, pulsed with a thrum that echoed in my bones. That Which Lurks Below Its presence is sensed through