The night is young and the air is still. But it wasn’t as peaceful as it seemed at the first glance. A little cottage stood eerily in the middle of the untamed forest, showered by shining moonlight that streamed unforgivingly from the darkening space above. There, some odd, bird-like sounds pierced the night. It sounded little bit like an old grumpy witch muffling and shrieking into frenzy, while concocting potions that nobody wants to taste. The wings of the owl ruffled, it sensed the peculiarities in the air, and fled to the east. There, there. At the corner of the shabby room, I laid, chained and bound. Was I too afraid to escape, or was I too much of a coward to even think of escape? I don’t know, as I transfixed at the sight of the looming silhouette. The shadows approached, sinking the air with an unpleasant dampness, sucking away all the remaining sanity of mine. Now I’m decaying, nothing but a mindless zombie without soul.
