Waiting for the Sun

On the night of the purple moon, the grey shadowy figure made of transparent smoke stalked a scared gorgeous magical fairy. As they crept through the vines and branches. Flickering candles cast eerie shadows like otherwordly bugs grasping for their soul.

The air was heavy with the stench of decay and (the prey being stalked) could feel the unbearable weight of a thousand souls relying upon them. Every shaky and terrified step led closer to the menacing, eerie glow in the distance, leading deeper into the moldy, moist and abandoned dungeon.

The whispers of the distant glow seemed to crawl toward them, as they went deeper and deeper.