CRIMSON WHISPERS IN THE DARK

The darkness danced with a life of their own, twisting and turning as if whispering secrets to the moonstarsnight. A chill ran through me, not from the cold, but from a presence that clung to the air like smoke. The crimson glow, faint yet persistent, pulsed with a heartbeat that echoed in my bones. That Which Lurks Below Its presence manifests