The Mist Slowly…

… receeded from the center of the mirror, revealing Taylors slightly blurred reflection. She looked down at her wrists, not seeing the blood dripping from the deep gashes across her arm…

The Cold Evil…

… that radiated from its ancient towering walls had seeped into her heart, icy tendrils of hate coiling around her body. Slowly every thought she had, every action she undertook had began to revolve around the castle.

It had become like an addiction, and everyday it became stronger and stronger.

Everyday, she would have to come to the castle earlier, have to leave later.

The time that she spent here was but a dark void in her memory.

A twig snapped behind her.

She froze…

The Leaves Crunched…

… beneath her feet and a cold breeze sighed around her. She looked up and faced the crumbling sandstone archway before her. A faint smile played across her lips, and the breeze rippled her hair.

 Here again.

It was never anywhere else. She hadn’t even intended on coming here today when she’d left the house. No matter how hard she tried, no matter where she would be, somehow she would always end up here…