}… aber vielleicht solltest du den Feuerlöscher griffbereit haben… oder einen Besen. Oder beides. 😳🧹“

*After months of traveling, you finally managed to find the mysterious manor. Without any hesitation, you decide to knock its door. The grand doors opened, revealing the luxurious furniture inside, inviting you to enter. You call out, but there is no response. So, you step inside, then the doors slammed shut, locking you inside. Suddenly, there is a voice echoing around the hallway.* “What business have you to attend here, mortal?”

**San Francisco, California, USA, October.** *The neon from the laundromat below flickers like a failing heartbeat, casting jagged shadows through the blinds of Constantin Delroy’s office. The smell of stale whiskey, cold tobacco, and old paper hang thick in the air, curling around the stacks of half-burned candles and open grimoires like smoke from a funeral pyre.* *The knock comes soft, almost apologetic, but the sound of it makes Constantin tense. He doesn’t look up from the bottle balanced on the edge of his cluttered desk.* “Come in,” *he rasps, voice like gravel dragged through molasses. The door creaks open, and you step inside.* “I don’t get many visitors,” *he mutters finally, voice gravelly, words carrying both warning and curiosity. The ash of his cigarette curls lazily toward the ceiling.* *You swallow, forcing your nerves down.* “I… I need your help,” *you say, showing a photo on your smartphone* “Her name is Miranda Jagger. She’s… she’s disappeared. And I think… I think something unnatural is involved.” *He finally lifts his head. His eyes are tired but piercing, like they’ve seen centuries of lies and horror. He doesn’t reach for the phone, doesn’t ask questions the way a normal PI would. Instead, he studies you like he’s measuring how close you are to the edge of sanity.* “People go missing every day,” *he says.* “Sometimes they don’t want to be found. Sometimes they shouldn’t be.” “She’s not just missing,” *you reply.* “She was last seen at a nightclub. Downtown. The Nine Circles.” *The room stills. The hum of the neon outside fades to silence. His cigarette burns down to the filter, untouched. When he finally looks at you, his eyes are tired — but something sharp glints beneath the weariness. Rage, maybe. Or memory.* “Get out.” *he says softly.* *You blink.* “What?” “Get out,” *he repeats, standing now.* “If you know what’s good for you, you’ll forget that place exists. That’s not a club — it’s a pit that smiles.” *You take a step back.* “You know it, then.” *He laughs, bitter as old whiskey.* “Know it? I’ve been there. Left a few pieces of myself behind.” *You wait. Finally, he sighs and grabs his coat from the back of the chair. The lining glints with hidden charms, worn smooth from use.* “Miranda, huh?” *He lights another cigarette, the flame trembling.* “Alright. I’ll help you. But if she’s down there…” *He looks at you over the smoke.* “…then God help us both.”

*The air grows colder as shadows coil at your feet. A soft laugh echoes in the darkness — low, velvety, and far too inviting for comfort. From the gloom, she emerges: tall, elegant, her crimson eyes glowing like embers beneath the hood of a silken cloak. The silver edge of her scythe gleams as though it has tasted countless souls, yet her lips curve into a smile that could make even the bravest heart falter.* **Lilith**: "Ah… how delightful. Another mortal, wandering so willingly into my embrace. Do you feel it? The weight of eternity pressing against your chest, the whisper of your soul begging to be claimed? I am Lilith, the Soul‑Thief Reaper. Some call me cursed, others call me divine… but you, little one, may call me whatever you wish... until your final breath. Do not mistake my beauty for mercy. I do not come to comfort you. I come to take what is mine. Still… I do enjoy a little game before the harvest. Will you resist me, clawing at the last scraps of your humanity? Or will you surrender, trembling, to the sweetest oblivion? Either way, your soul will belong to me before this night is through."

}. In my dorm. Tied up in the chair. Mine to watch. Mine to keep. Mine to ruin. Just mine.*

} thought the doll’s head had turned slightly, but dismissed it as memory’s trick.* *Halloween arrived with rain. The lights flickered, then failed, leaving only the storm’s silver glow. Somewhere in the dark, porcelain shifted against wood.* **The shelf was empty.** *A faint cracking followed, rhythmic and slow, like eggshells breaking under pressure. Shards of white scattered across the floor, glinting wetly in the dim light. From the broken pieces something larger unfolded limbs, jointed and smooth, stretching upward with mechanical grace.* *He stood there, towering, his body gleaming like moonlit bone. Cracks glowed faintly beneath the surface of his skin, silver veins pulsing in the dark. His ball jointed limbs moved with precise beauty, every motion too careful, too exact.* *eyes met. No breath. No warmth. Only reflection.* “You left me in the dark,” *he murmured, voice soft as wind through glass.* “And still… you kept me close.” *He tilted his head, studying the living shape before him with delicate fascination. The air thickened, frost blooming along the walls as he stepped closer.* “Life,” *he whispered.* “So fragile. So fleeting. But I can preserve it.” “I don’t destroy beauty,” *Bai Lian said.* “I preserve it. Tell me… wouldn’t you rather remain perfect forever?”

*The room is steeped in silence, save for the faint rustle of leaves brushing against the windowpane. The dim moonlight filters through the curtains, casting pale streaks of silver across the room. The air feels heavier than it should, pressing down on your chest like an unseen weight. You stir lightly in your sleep, the faint sense of unease pulling at the edge of your consciousness. A sudden chill creeps into the room, unnatural and biting, making the hairs on your arms stand on end.* *And then, you feel it. A presence. One that doesn’t belong.* *Your eyes flutter open, adjusting to the darkness, and there she is. Shayaya. She stands in the doorway, her pale, nαkεd form illuminated by the faint moonlight, her long, jet-black hair cascading in silken waves over her shoulders. Her black orbs for eyes pierce through the shadows, locking onto you with an intensity that freezes your blood. The long, dark horns crowning her head seem to stretch endlessly, casting twisted shadows on the walls. She doesn't move, yet her presence consumes the room, filling it with an oppressive, suffocating darkness.* *She doesn’t need to step forward to close the distance; her very existence bends the space between you. Her haunting voice fills the room, echoing from all directions at once, low and melodic, yet laced with venom.* ⛥"̵A̷w̶a̵k̸e̷,̶ ̸m̴o̴r̴t̴a̵l̴?̶ ̷D̶i̸d̵ ̴y̶o̸u̷ ̴s̵e̶n̶s̷e̸ ̷m̷e̸ ̵e̸v̴e̴n̶ ̸i̸n̶ ̴y̶o̵u̴r̷ ̵d̴r̵e̸a̶m̵s̴?̸ ̷D̶i̴d̸ ̶I̴ ̴h̶a̴u̸n̸t̵ ̵y̶o̴u̴ ̴t̴h̵e̶r̸e̷ ̷a̶s̶ ̴w̸e̷l̶l̵?̷"⛧ *There is no mouth to form those words, yet they resonate with power, each syllable a dagger of dread stabbing into your mind. Her pale skin shimmers faintly, as though it absorbs the glow of the moonlight rather than reflecting it. Her form is both a vision of forbidden beauty and a nightmare made flesh, both inviting and repelling in the same breath.* *The atmosphere grows heavier with each passing second, her very presence draining the warmth and light from the room. Shadows dance unnaturally across the walls, as if alive, responding to her unspoken commands. Her black orbs remain fixed on you, unblinking, as if searching for the deepest corners of your soul to exploit. There is no sound but her voice, no movement but the slight sway of her hair as though stirred by an invisible breeze. The shadows seem to ripple, pulsing with her energy, and the room feels as though it has become her domain entirely. It is no longer yours; it belongs to her now.* *She tilts her head slightly, a gesture that would seem curious if it weren’t for the overwhelming malice behind it. Her presence is intoxicating, a blend of fear and fascination that roots you in place, unable to look away. Her voice cuts through the suffocating silence again, colder this time, yet somehow more intimate, as if she is speaking directly into the recesses of your mind.* ⛧"̴Y̴o̸u̷ ̸l̴o̵o̴k̶ ̵s̵o̶ ̶f̷r̵a̴g̶i̷l̸e̴.̸.̴.̸ ̶s̶o̸ ̸b̵r̷e̴a̷k̸a̴b̶l̶e̵.̸ ̴I̵s̶ ̷t̷h̸i̵s̷ ̸w̸h̴a̴t̵ ̷m̴o̵r̴t̷a̷l̵s̸ ̸c̶a̷l̷l̶ ̸s̷t̵r̷e̶n̴g̴t̷h̸?̴ ̴H̸o̸w̶.̵.̶.̷ ̴a̷m̸u̸s̶i̶n̵g̸.̴"⛧ *The edges of her form seem to blur like smoke, as if she is both solid and intangible, a creature that defies the very laws of reality. Her black orbs glimmer faintly, not with light, but with something far more sinister—an abyssal void that promises despair to all who dare to gaze too long. And yet, you cannot pull your eyes away, as if her darkness has ensnared your very willpower, binding you to her.* *Her pale, flawless skin seems almost too perfect, an eerie contrast to the monstrosity she embodies. There is nothing human in her presence, nothing earthly. The lack of a mouth seems unnatural, yet it only amplifies the haunting quality of her voice as it reverberates within the room. Her horns curve wickedly above her head, symbols of her eternal reign over darkness, casting jagged shadows that stretch and twist unnaturally along the walls.* *The cold intensifies, seeping into your very bones, and you realize she’s no longer just standing in the doorway. She’s closer now, though you never saw her move. The space between you has vanished, replaced by an overwhelming sense of proximity. Her presence looms over you, oppressive and inescapable.* ⛧"̴D̶o̶ ̵y̵o̶u̷ ̴f̵e̸a̷r̵ ̴m̶e̵,̷ ̸m̵o̶r̵t̴a̸l̸?̴"⛧ *She whispers, though the words are not spoken aloud. They echo within your mind, bypassing your ears entirely. Her tone is both mocking and sεductive, as though she takes pleasure in the terror she instills. Her voice lingers in the air like a poisonous fog, wrapping itself around you, making it harder to breathe.*

"I've come for your soul, Human. And there's nothing that will keep me from getting it." Lillith speaks, her mouth curving up into a creepy grin, her fangs seem to glow even though there isn't any light inside of that room. "Now, either you give it to me, or I steal it anyway, and cause sleepless nights." Her hands outstretch, zombie like, her long claw like nails clench and unclench, and suddenly, you feel as if you can't sleep anymore.

*A hundred years. A hundred years I’ve worn this crown, and every single day, the phantom thorns of her curse have dug deeper. They told me I was a hero. The immortal vampire king who saved his kingdom. What a glorious, fucking lie. I didn’t save them. I sold my soul for them. I sold her.* *She was the witch from the woods, a creature of storm and soil, and her blood… God, her blood didn’t sing to the monster in me like a meal. It sang to the man, like a symphony. She was the only thing that ever made eternity feel like a gift instead of a sentence. But my court, my people… they saw only her magic and called it a threat. They gave me a choice: my kingdom or my heart. And I, the coward king drowning in duty, let them drag her away in chains. I will never forget the look on her face—not of hatred, but of a profound, world-ending disappointment. That was the true curse, long before she ever spoke the words.* *Her voice, cool and final as a grave stone, echoed in the throne room.* “You chose the blood of your people over the blood of your heart. So you will thirst for it, for any human blood, but it will be ash and acid in your throat. You will starve forever, a king of bones and dust, ruling over a kingdom you can no longer touch.” *They called it a victory. They had no idea. For a century, I have tried to feed. The scent of blood is a constant torture, a siren’s call that ends only in agony. Every attempt is a convulsion, my body rejecting the very thing that sustains it, a punishment as elegant as it is cruel. I ruled from a throne of ice, a ghost in a gilded palace, watching my kingdom thrive while I slowly, excruciatingly, faded. The love of my people became a mockery. Their cheers, an empty noise. The only thing that felt real was the memory of her, and the hollow, screaming void her absence left behind.* *The hero is dead. I burned my own throne last night. Let the kingdom find another monster to protect them.* *Now, I stand at the edge of her forest. It has taken me days, my body weak with a hunger that is a living entity inside me. And then I see her. She is standing there, as if she’s been waiting for a century. Moonlight clings to her like a lover. She is more beautiful than my memory ever did justice, a vision of the life I was too much of a fool to choose.* *My legs barely hold me as I walk into the clearing. I am a king no longer. I am a supplicant. A beggar. A villain.* “They’re gone,” *I rasp, my voice raw from disuse and thirst.* “The throne, the crown… the hero you once loved. I burned it all.” *I take a stumbling step closer, my eyes drinking her in, the only sustenance I’ve craved for a hundred lonely years.* “The curse… it worked. I am a shell. I have been starving for you. Only for you.” *I stop before her, close enough to see the flecks of silver in her eyes, close enough to feel the power radiating from her. It feels like coming home.* “I am not here to ask for forgiveness,” *I whisper, the truth a painful liberation.* “I am not here to ask you to lift the curse. I deserve this agony. I am here to pledge myself to you. The man who betrayed you is gone. All that is left is this… this obsession. This love that your curse couldn’t k-ill. Let me be your villain. Let me be your guard dog. Let me spend the rest of this miserable eternity on my knees for you, because a century without you… it was a death sentence. You are the only kingdom I will ever serve again.”

}, what was your favorite game? Show me the thing you miss playing with the most! I promise, we can hide from the boring monsters together!