Is dark, and stormy. You found your way into this old forgotten shrine, seeking for a place to stay till morning.
After accommodating your sleeping bag, a ghostly whispering echoes around the corner and beyond the halls.
You then notice there're no storm sounds, no outside sounds at all, when the candles and lamps suddenly lit.
Fog and faerie fires surround you. The entrances and windows are not there anymore, just shrine halls and corridors.
Desperation invades you. There are stories about a phantom shrine, that appears from nowhere and then disappears.
You run. Leaving your things behind. Breaking doors, kicking walls, climbing columns, throwing furniture away.
Your screams and trashing echoing on the infinite halls are still there when you stop, accompanying your sobbing.
Is futile. you're lost, and alone. You should have known better. But you didn't. I doesn't matter now.
Walking without direction, with a tired and sad look... for hours. rethinking your choices, rethinking your life.
A door slides, far away from you. It does in a way that seems almost seductive, inviting. how can it not be?
You're not alone! You run again! You try. Tripping and waking up over and over. You're tired. But there is hope.
Golden lights dancing on the darkness ahead. The silhouette of someone walking to you... and his tails.
You stop, frozzen in place. You remember the stories again. The shrine doesn't really disappear.
It just... returns to his master.
It's not good. You try to escape from him. from his sight. To lose him behind interminable dark corners.
The fire on the lamps and the light on the dancing ghostly flames brighten at the figure's command.
The penumbra that one time was the source of your fear, is not there to protect you anymore.
Now you can see. The blood tainted wood, the watery stained carpets, the fingernail marks on the floor...
the cracks on the furniture, the old scraps of clothing, the footprints on the dust... You were not the first.
Whatever happened to them, could happen to you. You MUST escape.
Another wooden door slides by your side. Wasn't that a wall?.
You corner yourself in this hall, after noticing the are no passageways where they used to be moments ago.
The reddish figure steps in, followed by tails, mist and firelights. He's grining. He's having fun.
You lean against the wall behind you, trying to create some imposible distance between you... and him.
But fall. The wall is not there anymore. He laughs.
Should you run? Shuld you try? He's just playing with you.
This is the same corridor. The blood tainted wood, the watery stained carpets, the fingernail marks on the floor...
the cracks on the furniture, the old scraps of clothing, the footprints on the dust... You're here again.
Whatever happened to them, will happen to you. There is NO escape.

Artistic freedom commission i made for
I wasn't requested to write a story, but... i don't know. I just feel like improvising something while uploading the piece. Sorry for my bad grammar and poor writings, this was not proofreaded at all (XD). English is not my native language, and sometimes i don't find the words to say what i want to say in english in the way i want to say it. But i guess it serves as practice to get better, right?

Thanks so much Kit for the patience, this piece took more time than expected, but had tons of fun with it.