Azula smiles in utter glee as Zuzu screams in agony. In front of nearly two-hundred generals and nobles, Father burns off part of his son’s face.

Zuzu is going to live!

He didn’t see any of this coming either. Unlike last time, there wasn’t anything Azula could do. Uncle, who finally returned from his desertion almost a year ago, let her buffoon of an older brother into a war meeting. I been attending them for over a year, but I’ve always been smart enough to not speak a word. Her brother, on the other hand, almost immediately protested a general’s strategy. To make it worse, he protested due to morality and not strategy.

Of course, the strategy was idiotic. Send a battalion of new recruits as a distraction to get killed? We already fully integrated women into our military because of a shortage of manpower. A war that lasts over a hundred years tends to whittle down a population, even to the winning side. Throwing away new blood instead of keeping them alive long enough to be veterans… Old men like to use old strategies.

Due to her brother’s blatant lack of disrespect, he was challenged to an Agni Kai which he accepted without hesitation. With your newfound testosterone, you turn thirteen, so you accept the first honor duel that you’re able to legally accept. You thought you’d fight against an old man.

He screams again.

That war meeting, like all war meetings, took place in Father’s throne room. He would be the one to duel you.

“Prince Zuko.” Father’s voice seemed to calm and collected compared to the convulsion and shrieks of her brother. “You are banished from the Fire Nation from this day forward. Leave tomorrow or be executed. If you wish to return, you must capture the Avatar and bring him to me. Go.”

Uncle rushes onto the dueling grounds faster than she ever seen the man move. He carries her brother away. At least my brother won’t be alone.

When Zuzu saw that our father was the one he’d have to duel, he refused to fight. He fell on his knees and begged for mercy. It probably saved his life. If he fought, Father would kill him, but it would be far too aggressive to kill a begging child. I should’ve advised him to do that, but it looks like his idiocy pays off occasionally.
> You save Zuzu
Azula leaves the crowd behind and walks back to her quarters. Father wants Zuzu dead. There’s no way he could leave our nation by himself or with our tea-guzzling Uncle carrying him out. After she closes the door, she lets out a painful sigh. At least I’ll be able to help him now.

He needs to get out of her nation and to travel the world. That means he’ll need a boat, and since her brother has no navel experience, he’ll need a small crew. Of course, Father would ensure the crew would have someone who would “accidentally” burn my brother to death during some sparring match. Regardless of his reasons, when the Fire Lord wanted someone dead, that person ended up dead. Right now, that person is her wounded brother.

Since I’d rather not have Father find out about my involvement… Azula waits patiently in her room. Today is Tuesday after all, a single blessing on what may be the worst day of her life.

Mai was the first one to arrive, prompt like any well-trained lady. Ty Lee was late as always. Since Mai seemed broody enough to kill someone and Ty Lee wouldn’t stop crying, Azula assumed she didn’t have to explain how her brother won’t be seeing them any time soon.

“Have you finished your crying yet, Ty Lee?” Azula glances at the door. Ever since starting these weekly get-togethers, she convinced the guards not to listen in. All the Royal Guards are still men. The young lady simply ensured her first meeting with her fellow females would’ve made any man very… uncomfortable to overhear. It worked. The simplest plans are often the most effective.

“No.” The girl continues to cry.

“Too bad. We have work to do. Mai, are you even listening?”

The girl blinks. Her eyes focus on the princess. “Sorry.”

Normally, that lack of respect would’ve angered Azula. She’ll give the girl a free pass this time. Her pre-arranged marriage to Zuzu will be called off by the end of the week. And that one would’ve been an instance where the couple actually liked each other. It would’ve made her sixteenth birthday more interesting to share it with a recently married sister-in-law. Oh well, it could happen anyway. Who knows what’ll happen in five years between now and then? Also, marriage… Ew.

“Mai, your parents have enough political connections. Find as many soldiers as you can who are loyal to Uncle Iroh. I want them with navel experience on a small vessel. About thirty. Be sure to have a good captain, cook, engineer, and several firebenders. Oh, try to have at least a few women in there too. I wouldn’t want a whole bunch of men to carelessly get themselves killed.”

Even Mai couldn’t hide the look of surprise on her face. Ty Lee stopped crying.

“As for you.” She points to her acrobatic friend. “You parents work on the docks with their merchant trading. Find a ship that no one will miss. Be sure it’ll be well-stocked.” She takes a pouch of gold coins and drops in in the girl’s hands. In any situation other than this one, she’d never trust Ty Lee with half that much. “Maybe get some Komodo-Rhinos too. I want both of you done and to report everything back to me before morning. Go!”

Without a word, they leave her bedroom.

Azula walks to her dresser and pulls out a small chest. Ty Lee always wondered why I horded my allowance away instead of wasting it on momentary pleasures. She looks at the currency. Even if it’s Fire Nation, our colonies would accept it. I think they’d be more lenient with the banishment rules. Maybe he could trade the rest for Earth Kingdom coins.

Until the sun sets, Azula meditates. She’d explode in frustration if she didn’t. It’s like being in a cage. She has no opportunity to do anything herself. Father can’t ever find out how she’s ensuring her brother’s survival, but relying on others to do that work is hard even if they’re her two most loyal assistants.

Ty Lee arrives not long after the sun set. The girl looked exhausted and not a coin was left in the bag. Even in the candlelight, Azula sees a smile on Ty Lee’s face when she hands her a piece of paper.

“They should have enough supplies to last them until next month,” the girl whispers. Her brow scrunches. “That’s the name of the boat, the list of stuff I bought, you know… But, um, why are you doing this?”

“You’d prefer to see my brother dead?”

“No!” She shakes her head faster than what’s healthy for most people. “It’s great and amazing, but you always wanted the throne. Now, you’re the only option left so… Why?”

“The Avatar hasn’t been seen since Avatar Roku died. The next incarnation probably died in the Avatar State during the Air Nomad genocide. Zuzu’s not coming back until I rescind that banishment after I become Fire Lord.” She’ll buy that.

“Okay!” Her shoulders slouch. “I’m tired though and my parents might finally notice I’m missing. If you see him, tell Zuko I wish him good luck. Also, um…”

“Spit it out.”

“I think you’ll make a great Fire Lord.”

Ty Lee leaves the room. She was going to say something different. What? It’s Ty Lee, probably something incidental.

The moon rises in the sky and starts to make its descent when Mai slinks into her bedroom. If Ty Lee was exhausted, then Mai must be moments away from collapsing.

“It took a while. They’ll be looking for Prince Iroh and Zuko at the docks tomorrow morning.” Mai hands her a piece of paper with thirty names on it, in alphabetical order. “Thank Agni my parents never found out what I was doing.”
“Get some sleep.”

Mai turns around, but Azula takes her by the wrist.

“Use my bed.”

“But-”

“I won’t be sleeping tonight. Tell your parents you spent all night ensuring you had the favor of the future Fire Lord.”

She raises an eyebrow. “I was ensuring your favor.”

“Precisely.”

“Thanks for doing all of this, Azula. Was… was the Agni Kai as bad as I heard?”

“Probably.”

Azula picks up the bag of coins, small enough to be hidden from the guard but large enough to fund Zuzu’s expedition for a while. She leaves Mai behind.

She takes the back passageways of the palace to the infirmary. It wasn’t hard to find Zuzu. He’s the only one in there.

Azula approaches him. The room has only one lamp as a dim light, but she sees the bandages wrapping the left side of his face. I wonder if he’ll be blind in that eye. He sleeps, though it looks anything but restless.

“Have you come to gloat, my niece?” Uncle slouches in a chair opposite of the bed. Azula forces herself not to shake her head. I should’ve realized he was the reason Ty Lee purchased so much tea in the supplies. He could’ve acquired all this himself, but someone had to watch over Zuzu. Maybe I should’ve told Mai to do that. Then, Uncle could’ve gone through this hassle himself.

Instead of arguing, she hands her uncle the bag of coins and her two lists. “Here.”

“What is this?” He squints, trying to read the symbols without adequate lighting.

She shrugs. “There’s a small ship, some of your former soldiers with seafaring experience, supplies, and a bag of money. The crew will meet you at the dock tomorrow morning.”

“Why are you doing this?”

“Despite popular opinion, I don’t agree with the Fire Lord on every decision.” She glances at Zuzu. “Ty Lee and Mai wish the dum-dum good luck. He’ll be broodier than normal and have more angst than anyone should experience. I wouldn’t like that. Goodbye, Uncle.”

Azula takes one more look at her brother and memorizes the sight. She sears it into her memory. Will she even recognize him next time they meet?

The princess leaves the infirmary and slips back into her room. The first rays of sunlight rise as she closes her door. Mai sleeps in her bed, so she sleeps in a chair.

When they wake up, Zuzu was on the open seas.


Mother coddles Zuzu after his embarrassment. Should’ve brought your swords, brother. Father never would take us to the Fire Lord in his throne room without showing us off. Well, showing me off. You just fell on your butt.

“Ursa, Zuko and Azula, you are dismissed.” The old man’s voice still carries some power. He used to be the greatest firebender in the nation before old age took its hold. Azula does her proper bow and leaves Father behind. Too bad I’m not a few years older, then I could challenge you to an Agni Kai, maybe even kill you. I always thought you were stronger than this, but you’re just an old, frail man. A man who never bothering seeing me, ever. The wall of flames surrounding his throne aren’t a display of power when one never has the courage to step outside of them.

Zuzu falls behind Mother, still sulking after his embarrassment. Mother wouldn’t be able to hear anything she whispers to him. Changing her plans around slightly, she adds another member to her infiltration party.

Azula takes his hand. “Zuzu, follow me,” she whispers. She drags him around a corner to a curtain. From what she saw during her time in the throne room, her first time ever, she decided that this would be the best spot for hearing what was meant to be a private conversation. Information is power.

Zuzu protests a little, but he quiets down when they poke their heads between the rich, lavender draperies. Father planned something, something huge. Lu Ten died as I predicted and Iroh gave up after breaching the outer wall and experiencing urban guerilla warfare as I predicted. Now, their Crown Prince is technically a deserter and without an heir. How come I’m the only one who seems to know exactly what’s going on? Besides Father of course.

“You would not put on that performance without purpose. Ozai, what do you want?” Well, he’s to the point at least.

In his most official sounding tone, Father says, “Lu Ten has fallen nobly in battle, and my brother has no more heirs nor a wife to sire more. With my brother’s retreat and desertion following the death of my nephew, no one knows if or when he shall return. However, I am here, Father, and my children are alive. Let your humble servant ensure your bloodline will continue on the throne.” He bows before the old man.

In one day, will Father pass both Lu Ten and Uncle for his place on the throne?

“Fool!” Father miscalculated. The flames around the throne rise to the ceiling from the old man’s fury. She holds Zuzu’s hand. If not, he’d flee in fear.
“You dare wish to punish Iroh further? He lost his son! My son has suffered enough, but your suffering has just begun for your arrogance.”

Zuzu breaks free of her grasp and flees. If it wasn’t for the fiery inferno blazing around the Fire Lord, they would’ve heard him. Next time, only allow Mai and Ty Lee for infiltration operations. They’d keep their heads on straight.

“Father, I only wish what is best for the Fire Nation.”

“No, you wish only for power and do not understand the feeling of loss. Only you have not experienced the battlefield. Only you still have your family in the land of the living. In your arrogance and pride, you could not see the pains of others. Now, you will know the heartache of sacrifice. Iroh lost his son. You will lose yours, by your own hand.”

If you knew anything about your son, Fire Lord, you’d know he has no love for the boy. Still, I did not expect you to ask something so impossible for any Fire Nation prince to accept.

“I accept your punishment.” What! “It will be done tonight.”
“Go.”

Father leaves. Azula stands motionless, trying to process a scenario that she never imagined.

Zuzu is going to die? Of course, he’d make a horrible general and a worse Lire Lord, but…
> You father Can't Be Defied
Father is going to kill Zuzu. I’d rather not have him killed. He is loyal, but I can’t defy the will of Father and the Fire Lord. I must accept these things, but…

She sighs. Zuzu is still her brother. Anyone, even the barbarians, deserve to have a fighting chance. Knowing Father, he’d slit her brother throat under the cover of darkness. It’d be effective but almost too effective. Zuzu will die no matter what happens, though he deserves to have a fighting chance.

She sneaks away to the one place Zuzu would go at a time like this. Azula would flee for the docks to secure passage to the barbarian lands or hide among her friends. Zuzu would… be Zuzu.

The princess enters his bedroom as he sits in bed, covers up to his chin. Beds are flammable, dum-dum.

He looks scared. He should be due to his imminent and approaching death, but her brother doesn’t know that yet since he ran away like a coward. He’s being a scared little boy.

I should be direct. She sits on the side of his bed and stares at him. “Father’s going to kill you.”

“What?” He backs away from her. Oh, right. I’m Father’s beloved child just as he’s Mother’s. I ALWAYS lie. Ug.

“He’ll sacrifice you. The Fire Lord wants him to experience the supposed pain of losing his son, so he’ll get rid of you. It’s not as if he cares anyway.”

He shakes his head. “Dad would never do that.” Denial? At a time like this? Why can’t you understand that our father wants you dead?

“Father doesn’t love you. He doesn’t like you. Maybe some Earth peasants would.” Zuzu’s really good at being a lovable idiot. Maybe some peasants would take pity on some lost Fire Nation noble. Then again, Zuzu would somehow tell them he’s a prince and get killed. Plus, I want him dead, not alive. I don’t like Zuzu, not at all.

“Run away?”

She shrugs. “Mopping the decks often gets free passage on merchant ships.” I’m doing this just to be mean. Not to help him.

His eyes move to the doorway. She sees the recognition on his face. I thought Father said he’d do it tonight. Salvage the situation, Azula. Maybe I could act like I was trying to kill him?

“Azula.” Fate must be on Father’s side. “What are you doing here?”

I’m warning your son, Mother. “Talking.”

“Come with me.” The tone and the tight grip on her arm don’t allow for protests.

As she drags Azula out of the room, she hears Zuzu muttering, “Azula always lies.”

That HURT. She doesn’t struggle at all as she’s practically dragged through the halls. I’m the only person in the bloody world that’s trying to help Zuzu, but you’ve entrenched your ideas so far into his head, Mother, that he refuses to believe me. You aren’t good for him. You aren’t good for anybody. Father’s going to kill him, but you’re the one who made him weak enough to kill. I wish you were gone. I wish you were dead.

Her eyes light up. Dead. Gone. She sees a new opportunity. It’d kill two birds… four birds with one stone. Father would be so proud if she could ever tell him. Too bad she can’t and won’t.

They stop in Mother’s chambers. She stopped sleeping with father two years ago. Also, ew.

“What were you doing, Azula?” And she thinks I’m the baddy here. I’m just a monster. Father and the Fire Lord are amoral. I have principles at least.

“You once said you’d do anything if barbarians wanted to kill Zuzu.”

Her eyes narrow. For once, Mother looks dangerous. Maybe I inherited a few things from her, besides beauty, after all. “Tell me the truth.” Her grip on the girl’s shoulder becomes painful. Maybe, it’ll leave a bruise.

“Father’s going to kill Zuzu tonight because the Fire Lord asked him to.”

She doesn’t believe me. “Tell me one reason why I should believe you.”

“Four. Zuzu won’t die. The Fire Lord will die. Father will get the throne, and you will be gone forever.”

Her shoulders slouch. I don’t always lie. I’m occasionally nice. More importantly, sometimes the truth hurts more than the lie.

“You have a plan, don’t you?”

“Yeah.” Azula smirks.

Later that night, the palace erupts into chaos. Azula stands watch in the shadows outside Zuzu’s door. He sleeps, blissfully unaware of the subterfuge and murder that just occurred. No matter what happens, she will not let anyone into his room tonight. Well, except that one. A figure gracefully approaches his bedroom. Unaware of the hidden prodigy, Mother rushes into his room. She shakes him gently.

“Wha? Mother?” He rubs his eyes. None of the guards are aware of the woman in his room. Father happened to ensure no one was around his son’s bedroom tonight. Too late, Father. We spilt blood before you could.

“Zuko, please, my love, listen to me. Everything I've done, I've done to protect you.” She wraps his in a tight embrace. She loves you, brother. Now, she’ll never see you again. “Remember this, Zuko. No matter how things may seem to change, never forget who you are.”

Before he could say anything in reply, she leaves. To where, Azula doesn’t know. All she knows is Mother will never return. She’ll always live with blood on her hands instead of her son.

Azula smiles, a real one.

I got rid of you forever, Mother.


“Who was that?” She didn’t think Zuzu was paying that much attention. He seemed much more focused on that sand… sand mound? Perhaps it was supposed to be a palace or castle. That dum-dum has no artistic sense.

“A new friend.”

“Like Mai?” His eyes shimmer with that word. After a moment of contemplation, she decides it’s a shimmer of fear. Poor Zuzu’s afraid of girls, herself included. That’s good.

She nods. “Uh huh, this one’s flexible and jumpy. I’m gonna be so good, no one could shoot me in an Agni Kai, even if I don’t bend.”

“And she wants to be your friend?”

“Of course.”

Actually, Ty Lee, apparently from a family with a surname, seems to do this out of selfish reasons. She has a bunch of sisters, so being friends with a princess would differentiate her. All her actions scream “look at me” anyway. She’ll be easy to control.

Zuzu crosses his arms. “Will that one be heading to the palace?”

She raises her eyebrow. Why would she not? I wouldn’t befriend people who won’t be around. “Yes.”

“Oh.”

She puts her hands on her hips. “It’s not my fault if I have more friends that you.”

He smashes the sand mound with his fists. Mother would’ve yelled at me if I did that. She didn’t even notice her precious son doing it. Even if she did, Mother would coddle him. She doesn’t see regret in his eyes. If it wasn’t for Mother, maybe Zuzu would’ve had a small chance at being a warrior.

“It’s not fair.” He stands up. “How come you have so many friends?”

It’s Azula’s turn to cross her arms. “I have two friends. That’s not much.”
“More than me.”

She shouldn’t be so surprised. He either flounders in his training or gets coddled by Mother. Is he capable of doing those boy game? Probably not. She should’ve put two and two together. Her brother’s isolated. Azula has broken free.

“Zuzu, how many kids have you ever talked to?”

“Um…” He stares at the sand as if it has become the most interesting thing in the world.

“Let me guess…” She talked to him. Mai… Has Mai? Maybe. It’s hard to tell. “Two.”

He doesn’t say anything, but his fist clench and he takes a quick breath of air. I’m right, as expected.

“Do you even know how to play Hot Rocks?”

“No.”

Of course, you wouldn’t know. I made it up, just now.

“You heat up a rock like this one.” She runs to the edge of the beach where there’s a stone, probably sandstone. She uses her flames to make it hot, but not enough to make it explode. She found out how painful those can be. “Then, we throw it at each other.” I can let the heat flow through me. Can you, Zuzu?

She tosses the rock at him. He caught it and gave a very feminine yelp. Why am I behind him for the throne? He tosses it from one hand to another before chucking it back at her. She catches it and glances at the sun. From that angle…

She tosses it at Zuzu, but she lobs it at a high angle. Her training with Mai will reap some fun rewards. He looks up but can’t see it. The rock is falling in his eyesight to the sun, a blind spot made of light. Of course, a warrior or anyone with common sense would move out of the way, yet Zuzu’s too stubborn for that.

The rock hits his head, and he falls into the sand. Would Mother believe a bird would’ve dropped a stone on his head? Probably not. Did anyone see this? Mother and Father are down the beach sitting on the sand. The guards are back at the house, since it’s safe here. No one else dares come close to part of the royal family, except Ty Lee, but that girl has already wandered off.
> You sit Down next to Him
She walks up and sits down across from her dazed brother. Since he doesn’t whine about his thunked head, her dum-dum of a brother must be unconscious. Leave it to him to be the first firebending prince ever to lose a battle against a six-year-old girl and a little rock.

He opens his eyes and groans.

“You should’ve dodged, dum-dum.”

He rubs his forehead and sniffs. Is he going to cry? “There’s no honor in running away.” And now he’s talking about honor?

“The dead have no honor.”

He looks at her if she stabbed him. “But our great-grandfather killed the last Avatar. He beat the Air Nation. He started our war to spread our glory. How can he have no honor just because he’s dead?”

“The war’s still going on. Sozin died before he could finish his work. He failed. No honor, just another power-hungry dead guy.”

“No son of Sozin or any firebender would speak ill of our former Fire Lords.”

“I’m no son, nor am I just any firebender.” She pokes her chest in triumph. “I’m THE firebender.”

Zuzu stares at her, trying to read her expressions. She reads others easier than she can read that awful old poetry Mother likes so much. Zuzu couldn’t tell if she was sad if she was crying, not that she ever would. Maybe he thinks I’m joking, but I’m dead serious.

He crosses his arms. “How come you’re so good at everything?”

“Because I want to. I refuse to allow anything else to happen, so I become the best.”
He looks away from her. “It’s not my fault if you were born lucky. Dad says I was lucky to be born.”

Ouch. “So? You’re still related to the most amazing thing that happened in over a hundred years. Just don’t die or anything and I’ll let you be an armor bearing or something.”

“We haven’t had a princess in battle for centuries, right? Why would I then bear armor?”

“I will be a warrior. Plus, you’re too stupid to try to kill me, so I could trust you as my underling.”

His demeanor darkens. Ug, that sounds like Ty Lee and those auroras. “I don’t think I’ll ever get to a battlefield. I’d just get in the way.”

“Which’s why you should be my helper. That way, you’d have a purpose. Plus, I promise I’ll try to keep your stupid butt alive when I’m already busy killing hordes of peasants or something like that. I’ll always be on your side when we’re in battle. See? Now you have a purpose. I don’t think you had a purpose.”

They lie there on the beach until sunset. Neither wanted to leave, since both knew what’d happen. They’d revert to their normal ways. They’d fight for their parent’s attention. Azula would scheme. She can’t remember the last time they just… talked.

Both were right. They didn’t have a quiet moment for the rest of the trip. When they got home, they’d either avoid the other of fight. Azula would come out on top. She had to. Only perfection can reach the throne, and she’ll prove she’s perfection incarnate.

However, she didn’t lie, not when making that promise. Even though their daily lives are like a battle against the other, on the real battlefield, she’d be there for her brother. No matter how much she dislikes the dum-dum, she knows it’s the duty of a royal to protect the weaker members of the family. But, that’ll happen years from now, maybe a decade. The Fire Lord will probably be her tea-loving uncle by then.

Even Azula with all her cunning could never predict that the battlefield will come so soon. It’ll come charging towards Zuzu not from assassins or enemy soldiers. He’ll be threatened by his family.


Azula giggles. It amuses her to see so many metal men run around. They always stand still or walk behind her, but now they seem frantic. They bend away the fire from the stupid, ugly painting. fears their red armor and spiky helmets, but not Azula. No, she’s a big girl who doesn’t feel scared.

“Azula!”

The girl feels scared as her mother stands in front of the… What was the word? Tapestry! It’s a tapestry. Mommy trembles. A tear falls down her face. Why is Mommy sad? I bended fire!

“What did you do, Azula?” Azula lowers her gaze. How come Mommy gets so angry at her and only her? She smiles at everyone else, well, except for Daddy.

“I…” Why am I in trouble? “I bended fire, like Daddy and Zuzu.”

“Tell me the truth. You’re two. No one bends fire at two. It was rare for Zuko to bend fire at only four.”

“But I am tellin’ the truth.” She crosses her arms.

“Did you hide the candles? Please tell me the fire you burned this with isn’t still burning.”

“I burned it with my fire!”

“You burned my only reminder of my family. Stop lying.”

“I am not lying. I am your family!”

She stomps her foot on the ground. The rug catches on fire where her foot made contact. Unlike before, pure joy, now she feels afraid. Will Mommy be angry about this too?

Instead of saying anything else, Mommy walks away in a hurry. The metal men, maybe they are called guards, bend that fire away too. She watches. They do it so easily. Why doesn’t Mommy yell at them? They bend, but she doesn’t mind. Why doesn’t Mommy love her?

“A… Azula?”

She turns her head. Zuzu stands in the doorway, eyes wide. Zuzu burned something too when he first bended. It was part of Mommy’s dress, a pretty and black one. Mommy was so happy when that happened even though the fire made her skin look a little red on her hand. She loves Zuzu.

“What did you do, Azula?” he asks, echoing their mother’s words. Again, Azula lowers her gaze.
> You tell Him
“I bended fire.”

“Really!” She looks up, and he smiles. “You bent fire? Now, you’re like me!”

But Mommy loves Zuzu but not me. Zuzu is not like me.

“No.” She points to the tapestry. “I bended fire and burned that. Mommy was angry.”

“That was Mom’s picture of her mom and dad.”

“I didn’t wanna.” She crosses her arms.

“I didn’t say that. Was it an accident?”

“Yes, but I do better. I won’t burn more things.”

“Good. Maybe we can practice together?”

“Yes!”

Zuzu will help her. She never got to do big kid things with him before.

They hear a new set of footsteps. She turns and sees someone she only remembers seeing twice before besides their nightly, tense dinners. Mommy stands behind him. She looks angry.

“Daddy?” she asks. Zuzu takes three steps backwards.

“Azula, you bent fire.”

“Yes.” She clenches her tiny fists. Will he be angry too?

“Good job.” He smirks. At this time in her life, it scared her. Eventually, she will learn to desire such approval.


You're an orphan. You don't know anything about your parents. You have never even met them before the hand of fate swept them away from you. All you know is that they died on October the 10th, the day the monstrous creature struck your village.

You remember growing up in an orphanage. Neither the adults nor the children there cared for you. Everyone avoided you for some reason. Even then, you felt like there is something you can do to change their opinion, until today. For today is the day that they've unanimously decided to kick you out.

You stumble into the street as the door shuts behind you. The thunder in the sky cackles as though they are laughing at you. The rain pours down your body as you lurch around the street, trying to find a shelter somewhere where you can stay. At least you found a dumpster in an secluded alleyway, and you grab the head of the dumpster, before flipping it up and climbing in.

How do you want to spend your childhood?

- You can choose to spend your childhood on the streets. If you choose this path, you will gain immense charm. Charm is useful for many things, such as bartering for lower prices inside stores, and in general getting along with people. There are also techniques that will require charm to use, and other techniques that rely on charm; such as that the more charm you have, the more your damage your technique will do.

- You can choose to spend your childhood in the woods, training on your physical attributes. If you choose this path, you will gain immense strength and dexterity. Strength and dexterity determines how much damage you do to your opponents. While strength reflects how much health you have, and the maximum amount of damage you can dish out, dexterity determines the minimum.

- You can choose to spend your childhood in the library, reading away your days. If you choose this path, you will gain immense intelligence. Intelligence determines how many chakra you have, and how much damage your chakra base attacks will do. You will need this for almost every techniques you come across. You will lose the game if your chakra hits zero.

- You can choose to spend your childhood hiding from people in the daylight, and coming back out at night time to do various night activities, such as stealing, and spying on people. If you choose this path, you will gain immense stealth. Stealth is required for certain missions you will do, such as that you won't be able to do certain missions until your stealth is are the required level. There are also techniques that will require stealth to use, and other techniques that rely on stealth; such as that the more stealth you have, the more your damage your technique will do.
> You on the streets
You have no parents. No one to take care of you. The orphanage that you were suppose to live in, you were kicked out. You didn't even know why. What were you suppose to do? Go crawl inside a hole, and die quietly? No. You were stronger than that. You wouldn't have given up, and you didn't give up. You found an abandoned apartment, and you made it your home, as well as you can.

Then you spent the rest of your time on the streets, scavenging what you can find. Running errands in the red district. Bartering with anyone who would trade with you. Even though most people are still wary of you, there are some that are willing to befriend you, mostly those in the red light district. As it is, you gained a lot of charm points in your childhood.

Charm + 45

Strength + 11

Dexterity + 14

Intelligence + 19

Stealth + 9
> You waking Up
8:04 A.M

You wake up.

The first thing you see is the white walls. And past that, the open windows. It was nice and windy out last night, so you left the windows open. Two techniques you have used before suddenly pop into your head. The henge, and the vampire sucking technique. The henge technique basically changes you into anyone you want to, but you usually use it to change into a female counterpart. The vampire sucking technique basically let you leech health from your enemies when you're in battle.

Oh. There's another technique you know, which is called the shadow clone technique. This technique lets you create copies of yourself. You can also combine this technique with your henge technique. Which means your clones can also henge into anyone they want. You have different clones scattered around your house for various purposes.
> You your history
8:08 A.M

You're an orphan. You don't know who your parents are, and how they died. You just know your own name, and you're not even sure if it was the one your parents gave you before they passed away.

Everyone hates you for some reason.

Everywhere you go, people point at you and whisper things behind your back.

Which is why you decide to stay out of sight, ever since you have understood what those whispers behind your back is really saying about you.

Since then you decide to wear gray clothes because they are less conspicuous. That way, you are less likely to be noticed. That way, you will not be seen and harassed.

You live inside a village.

The people here have a system. A system to defend themselves.

There are two types of schools for children here in the village. One is for regular civilians. Another one is for military recruits.You have decided to join the academy for military recruits because you  want  to learn how to defend yourself against those people who really hate you; against those who really want to hurt you.

Ever since you have enrolled in the academy, you've been pushed back by the instructors. Your test papers had gone missing, your instructions had been written wrong, and your weapons were handed out dull and broken.

You have decided that you have to act the idiot in order for them to underestimate you; in order for them to think that you're not a threat; that you're just an idiot.

You have to fail.

So you did. You have failed twice. Once to persuade them that you're not a threat. And another one to prove that you're just another feeble minded idiot, so that they'll shift their attention somewhere else.

It worked. Like a charm.

They have no idea what you're capable of.

Today's going to be the third time around that you're taking this test.

You see no point in continuing to fail this test anymore. You are strong enough now. You have gained enough power, and you're going to pass it this time.  After that, you're going to surpass them all.
> You open your closet
8:28 A.M

You get up and open your closet door.

Inside is...


You're an orphan. You don't know anything about your parents. You have never even met them before the hand of fate swept them away from you. All you know is that they died on October the 10th, the day the monstrous creature struck your village.

You remember growing up in an orphanage. Neither the adults nor the children there cared for you. Everyone avoided you for some reason. Even then, you felt like there is something you can do to change their opinion, until today. For today is the day that they've unanimously decided to kick you out.

You stumble into the street as the door shuts behind you. The thunder in the sky cackles as though they are laughing at you. The rain pours down your body as you lurch around the street, trying to find a shelter somewhere where you can stay. At least you found a dumpster in an secluded alleyway, and you grab the head of the dumpster, before flipping it up and climbing in.

How do you want to spend your childhood?

- You can choose to spend your childhood on the streets. If you choose this path, you will gain immense charm. Charm is useful for many things, such as bartering for lower prices inside stores, and in general getting along with people. There are also techniques that will require charm to use, and other techniques that rely on charm; such as that the more charm you have, the more your damage your technique will do.

- You can choose to spend your childhood in the woods, training on your physical attributes. If you choose this path, you will gain immense strength and dexterity. Strength and dexterity determines how much damage you do to your opponents. While strength reflects how much health you have, and the maximum amount of damage you can dish out, dexterity determines the minimum.

- You can choose to spend your childhood in the library, reading away your days. If you choose this path, you will gain immense intelligence. Intelligence determines how many chakra you have, and how much damage your chakra base attacks will do. You will need this for almost every techniques you come across. You will lose the game if your chakra hits zero.

- You can choose to spend your childhood hiding from people in the daylight, and coming back out at night time to do various night activities, such as stealing, and spying on people. If you choose this path, you will gain immense stealth. Stealth is required for certain missions you will do, such as that you won't be able to do certain missions until your stealth is are the required level. There are also techniques that will require stealth to use, and other techniques that rely on stealth; such as that the more stealth you have, the more your damage your technique will do.
> You training in the woods
 "Amanda!" you yell from the kitchen. "I swear, if you don't turn the telly down, I will KILL YOU!"

 The blaring from the living room drowns out her response, which drives you mad. You tap your foot impatiently. I will wait five seconds before I go in there, you tell yourself.

 One.....Two.....Three.....Four.....

 "'Manda! I'm coming in there!" You say furiously as you storm from the kitchen. The living room's lights are dimmed, so the glare from the telly makes you blink. Amanda is curled up on the couch, her eyes glued on the screen. Her red hair is a mess, and she is dressed in rumpled up pajamas.

 "Amanda," you say as you grab the remote. "You really need to stop this! Your head is going to explode from the sound."

 "Shut it, Jess!" Amanda shushes you. "Turn it up, this is really important!" You roll your eyes and listen to your roommate.

 The reporter is just finishing up a story. "...and the residents of Greenwich should be more cautious. The number of robberies and break-ins have increased over the last two weeks. So, make sure to lock your doors when you leave to house."

 "So?" you say as you turn it off. "It's just some robberies. Nothing unusual."

 "But he said it was happening in Greenwich! That's here, in case you forgot!" Amanda says as she gets up from the couch. She stretches, and walks with you to the front door. "We have the same chance of getting robbed as anyone else here!"

 "'Manda," you turn around, exasperated. "Who in creation would want to break into the flat of two twenty-year old women that can barely pay the rent? It's not like we have anything of value here."

 You grab your purse from the table by the door. Glancing into the mirror, you check to see that your hair is still in its place, and your mascara hasn't smudged. Pleased, you turn to Amanda.

 "We have a telly, a microwave, a DVD player, and some jewelry upstairs, Jess!" Her green eyes flash with fear. Amanda is always worried that someone would break into the flat that you share and steal everything you have.

 "Oh, for God's sake. Listen to me. No one is going to rob us!" You unlock the door. "Right, I'm going out."

 "Make sure you get some more apples. We're nearly out," Amanda reminds you.

 "Yeah, don't worry. I'll remember." You walk into the hallway. "Lock the door behind me!"

 Your best friend lets out a retort as you close the door in her face. Time to go to town.


The dead branches outside the large window rustle softy in the wind, whispering softly in the pallid light.. Pale snowflakes dance their ghastly dance before they fade away on the frozen ground. Shadows move silently over the floor as the full moon travels through the heavens. A grandfather clock calls nearly inaudible from the hallway, announcing the ghost hour with a faint 'DONG'. The ancient house around you creaks and crunches as if it's stirring in some deep sleep.

Your mind barely registers your surroundings as you are sitting inside your comfortable chair. The library is almost completely engulfed by shadows, safe for the dying embers in the hearth next to you. Reading some dusty tome about knowledge which most people have already forgotten, you often forget that the house around you even exists. However, tonight you can't keep your eyes open. Nearly nodding, nearly napping you try to continue reading, but you notice you've already read the same line seven times over. With a sigh, you decide to give in and rest your eyes for a little while.

Images from long forgotten times unfold themselves in front of your mind's eye. A garden in spring time. The morning sun shimmers on the surface of a blue lake. Two swans glide side by side near the water's edge. Pebbles crunch as a beautiful woman runs towards you. Wearing a plain white dress, with a skin like...

TAP TAP TAP

You are roughly awaken by a sudden tapping at your door. Desperately you try to cling on to your memories, but they fade away like shadows before the sun. With one foot still in Morpheus' realm you wonder if the noise was merely part of your dream. With a curt shrug  you decide to return to your book, when suddenly...

RAP RAP RAP

Fear begins to wrap it's shadowy fingers around your heart. 'Tis just some visitor', you mutter to yourself, 'only this, and nothing more'. With a mind still firmly in sweet dream's grasp, but tempted by curiosity, and fear, you decide to...

> You open the door.
With your hands and legs trembling you lift yourself from your chair. Slowly shuffling trough the cold shadows you feel a chill tingling at your spine. Feeling more and more unsettled you notice the rhythmic swaying of your purple curtains. Against your better judgement this image thrills you, fills you with fantastic terrors, the likes you've never felt before.

To still the beating of your heart you stand near the door, repeating to yourself: 'Tis some visitor entreating entrance at my chamber door. Some late visitor at my door. But why would a visitor come knocking at my chamber door, in stead of the front... No, do not dwell upon these thoughts. Tis some visitor, and nothing more.'

With your trembling hand extended you reach for the gleaming brass knob. As your hand envelops the cold metal you stand frozen in place, neither capable of opening the door, nor relinquishing you grip. While all of your instincts are raging within you, you open the door.

The creaking of the rusty hinges pierces your ears and torments your mind. It takes hours before the door is finally open and the darkness of the hallway comes pouring into the library. Shadows and dust whirl around each other, moved by the smallest wind created by opening the door. You gaze at this play when you realize the hallway is empty. Shadows and dust, and nothing more.

> You continue...
Softly whispering, but slowly strengthening, you call into the black abyss: Sir, or madam, I implore your forgiveness. I was napping while reading a book and so gently came your rapping that I scarce was sure I heard you. Please good sir, or madam, make yourself known.'

You look around once more, but no further sounds can be heard coming from the shadows. Strange thoughts and dreams circle through your mind, but still the darkness gives no token. Wary, you whisper with a trembling voice: 'Lenore?' Silence follows, but an echo murmurs back this one word: 'Lenore!'

As you turn to return to the chamber, you once more feel an ominous tingling in your spine. With a beating heart you once more survey your surroundings. The hallway is the same as before, although the dance of dust and shadow has ended, and yet you can't shake of the feeling that someone, or something, is watching you. Suddenly the silence is broken by a ghastly noise, that same noise that led you into this darkness.

TAP TAP TAP

This time it is louder than the last. As your heart once more tries to leap out of your chest, you can feel the air grow colder. Shaking and shivering you try to determine the origin of that dreadful noise. Warily, you turn your head, convinced that an unknown assailant can reveal itself at any moment. Yet only shadows surround you. Anxiously, you keep repeating to yourself: 'There's nothing here but shadows and dust. Tis a leaking pipe that's making that noise, that it is and nothing more.'

Feeling slightly more secure you are about to return to the library, just as the eerie sound returns once more.

TAP TAP TAP   TAP TAP TAP   TAP TAP TAP

Startled, you look around and you notice the door near the end of the hallway. It's there were the origin of that noise resides. As you continue to gaze upon it, the doorknob begins to rattle, turned by an invisible hand, and the tapping sound strengthens.
> You thoroughly scared, you retreat into the library.
With a pounding heart, you slam the doors of the library shut, trying to block out the shadows and demons of your minds eye. In the pale light of the hearth's dying embers, you stand panting. With your heart beating in your chest, pounding in your throat, you feel light-headed.

'Surely 'tis but a passing fancy, a shadow of an imaginative mind. There is really nothing wrong, as in the morning you shall find. You have never been a madman, nor have you have been told you are. Let us not start doubting now, 'tis a fancy by far. Let's just continue reading my book, that'll calm me down. It is winter, it is cold, it is the season to feel unsettled.'

Still slightly trembling, you sit down in your comfortable chair, and pick up your volume of long-forgotten knowledge. Though the words tend to jumble and jump in front of your eyes, an aftereffect of your shaken heart, the gathering of knowledge does sooth your spirits. After a few minutes pass, you have all but shaken the last remnants of the night's terrors from your mind. Until you hear a tapping on your window's lattice.

You turn towards your window, your soul within your burning, yet you cannot see past its closed shutters. Scared, yet inquisitive, you decide to approach it. For what if it is a visitor who, having tried knocking on your door, tries to seek your attention in other ways? Maybe they're throwing small stones against your window?

Once you reach your window, your hand on the shutters' latch, you feel the cold, winter's air blowing through it. Shivering, you briefly wait, but decide to open the shutters. A flurry of feathers blows past you, too fast to focus on, startling you, and making you jump backwards.

CAW CAW CAW

A raven, a beast as black as the darkest night, flies around your library and perches itself above your chamber door. On the pallid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. How long you've stood watching it in bewilderment, you do not know, but once you've gathered your senses, you burst out into laughter.

'You my dear, sweet raven, surely art no craven. Tell me fearless raven, flying through this winter's snowy night, tell me why you bless me with this wondrous new sight?'

'Nevermore.'

From the its elevated perch a voice rung out, clear as water, yet creaking like ice. The raven, that enigmatic being, spoke as if answering your query.

'Can you understand me, are you answering, am I right? Tell me what your name is on the dark shore of this night?'

'Nevermore.'

Again, that singular word. Gazing into the eyes of that bird, you feel slightly unsettled. Slowly, a soft tingling starts to spread over your spine, as if the shadows of the library, surrounding you, are watching, closing in on you. You try to shake the thought. Focusing your attention back on the raven, you notice that he is still sitting completely still. Not a feather has rustled since you last addressed him.

'Tell me, oh saintly raven, of the region whence you came. Tell me of your master, who gifted such a singular name. How did you ever learn this, did you witness great a pain? Tell me of the grief which shall hold no more name.'

'Nevermore.'

An illogical annoyance bubbles up within your soul. You start to feel like this bird, this beast has been sent here with the sole intention of mocking you. With a slightly raised voice, you address him for one last time: 'Curious demon, mocking tormentor, tell me why you came. Tell me why you carry such a strange and ominous name. Were you sent here by the heavens, or does the devil play a game? Are you here to mock me, or is my own, sad mind to blame?'
> You 'Nevermore.'
Annoyance turns into anger as that beast mocks you once more. Grunting, you mutter to yourself: 'Other friends have flown before, on the morrow he will leave me as my hopes have flown before. On the morrow, all will be as was before.'

'Nevermore.'

Angry, yet curious, you gaze once more at that singular bird, perched on the pallid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. Yet, as your gaze meets his, you feel a dark pit of sadness and despair open up, deep within your heart. With a voice filled with grief and wrath, you address the raven once more: 'Beast or devil, work of evil! Vile demon you might be! Tell me if you know of one no longer here with me. Tell me if the saints and angels have the one that I adore. Tell me of the one I lost, my radiant Lenore.'

'Nevermore.'

Lenore, the name haunts you still, even after so many, many months. Briefly, you break free of the raven's gaze, as you look once more upon her portrait, hanging on one of your library's walls. From within her wooden frame, Lenore looks at you with sad eyes, a kind smile upon her lips, filling you with longing.

'Nevermore.'

The raven once more utters that singular word with his creaking, icy voice, mocking your loss, your despair. Icy tendrils grasp at the corners of your mind, and a deep fear makes its way into your heart. You once more turn your eyes towards the placid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. There, your tormentor, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting.

Staring into the unblinking eyes of that shadowy prophet, you feel the last of your courage leaving your body. The shining image of Lenore slowly fading from your mind. Suddenly, in the blackness of the raven's eyes, you see the shimmer of a reflection, of the maiden you adore. Yet now, instead of love, instead of longing, it fills you with an overwhelming feeling of...
> You sadness.
'Heartless demon!' You cry out, 'Tormentor from the nightly shore! Have you no mercy for a poor man, mourning the mem'ry of his late Lenore? Take your break from out my chest, and take your form from off my door! Leave me here in peace this evening, let me forget my sweet Lenore.'

Quoth the raven 'Nevermore'.

Tears well up in your eyes, and your knees give way beneath you. The image of Lenore, once shining and radiant, has now turned into a mockery, a shadow of her former self. That rare and radiant, saintly-clasped maiden that you once loved, whose portrait still adorns your chamber wall, shall visit you nevermore. Her memory, haunting you like a shadow of despair.

CAW CAW CAW

The raven's cry sounds once more, mocking you, laughing at your misery. That grim and beastly devil sitting above your chamber door. Behind you, you hear the final hiss of the embers in your hearth. In the pale moonlight, the raven seems but a shadow against the pallid bust above your door. Yet you know that he is watching you, observing you, peering deep inside your soul. The shadow of death, mocking your loss, and your powerlessness to overcome it.

You meet its gaze once more, its piercing, dead gaze, but cannot find any remorse in it. Silently it watches, waiting tirelessly. For what, only the heavens know. Yet in that cold darkness, in those remorseless eyes, you see that whatever your actions, whatever you do in your life, whatever the cold, lonely future has in stall for you, this demon, this beast, this devil from the nightly realm, shall leave you never- nevermore.


Annoyance turns into anger as that beast mocks you once more. Grunting, you mutter to yourself: 'Other friends have flown before, on the morrow he will leave me as my hopes have flown before. On the morrow, all will be as was before.'

'Nevermore.'

Angry, yet curious, you gaze once more at that singular bird, perched on the pallid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. Yet, as your gaze meets his, you feel a dark pit of sadness and despair open up, deep within your heart. With a voice filled with grief and wrath, you address the raven once more: 'Beast or devil, work of evil! Vile demon you might be! Tell me if you know of one no longer here with me. Tell me if the saints and angels have the one that I adore. Tell me of the one I lost, my radiant Lenore.'

'Nevermore.'

Lenore, the name haunts you still, even after so many, many months. Briefly, you break free of the raven's gaze, as you look once more upon her portrait, hanging on one of your library's walls. From within her wooden frame, Lenore looks at you with sad eyes, a kind smile upon her lips, filling you with longing.

'Nevermore.'

The raven once more utters that singular word with his creaking, icy voice, mocking your loss, your despair. Icy tendrils grasp at the corners of your mind, and a deep fear makes its way into your heart. You once more turn your eyes towards the placid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. There, your tormentor, never flitting, still is sitting, still is sitting.

Staring into the unblinking eyes of that shadowy prophet, you feel the last of your courage leaving your body. The shining image of Lenore slowly fading from your mind. Suddenly, in the blackness of the raven's eyes, you see the shimmer of a reflection, of the maiden you adore. Yet now, instead of love, instead of longing, it fills you with an overwhelming feeling of...
> You fear.
The gaze of that winged demon, that messenger of death, is too much for you to bear. A sliver of ice lodges itself into your spine and your knees turn weak. With your heart pounding in your chest, an irrational fear makes itself the master of your mind. Almost without thought, you open the door to your library, and run away, leaving that demonic bird sitting above you, perched high above your chamber door.

Back in the hallway, you notice that the dance of dust and shadow continues once more. An icy cold has appeared, chilling you to the bone. As you carefully step into the darkness, strength returning to your knees, yet your heart still pounding in your chest, you notice small puffs of mist erupting from the carpet. You're scared, you don't want to admit it, but you're scared. That winged demon that haunts you is still somewhere behind you, you can feel it.

Yet while you worry about the shadows behind you, a soul-shattering wail erupts from below you. A female voice, filled with grief and despair. In front of you, the staircase beckons that leads to the hallway downstairs, the dark hallways downstairs, the hallway where that wail just originated. However, while weighing your choices, you'd rather explore what's going on downstairs, than return to that beast in the library.
> You continue...
Crouching down until you're knees are almost touching the floor, you creep towards the top of the stairs. Peeking down, the cavernous hallway seems dark and desolate save for a narrow streak of moonlight shining through the windows above the front door. Two doors, besides the front door, give access to two more chambers on the ground floor: the living room and the smoke room. And it is of this room, the smoke room, that the door remains open just a little bit, and just at the moment that you are peeking down into the hallway, a small piece of white fabric disappears through it.

Though your heart is pounding in your chest and you knees are shaking visibly, you decide to brave your fears and descend the staircase. As soon as you put weight on the top step the staircase creaks and cracks, loud enough to shake your resolve and wake all the demons in hell itself. However, you decide to brave onwards. Step by step, creak by creak, you more or less succeed in descending the staircase safely.

As your feet finally touch the stone tiles on the hallway's floor you let out a quick sigh of relief. As you survey your surroundings you wonder why you ever continued to live in a mansion that just screams 'HAUNTED'. An old chandelier, made suitable for electric lighting long ago, softly sways from the ceiling, its lights darkened. The faces of your ancestors stare blankly at you from their respective stately portraits which overlook the staircase you just descended. The grey moonlight which shines through the few windows around the grand, wooden, doors gives them an even more dead like pallor.

The uneasy silence which envelops your home has not yet lifted, and yet you could swear that you hear floorboards cracking in the smoke room. This is, of course, a preposterous thought. You are all alone in this house, and have been for many months now. Who else could be wandering these halls? To still the beating of your heart, you think to yourself: 'Tis probably some rodent wandering in these darkened halls, sheltering from an animal or looking for food. P...'

But before you finish your thoughts a cold winds blows through the crack in the doorway. Suddenly shivers run down your spine and you can feel your knees start to tremble once more. While fear starts to fill your mind once more, you decide to...
> You investigate the smoke room.
As you fully open the door to the smoke room, a cold wind greets you. In the corner of your eyes, you can see the frayed, grey curtains in front of the windows slightly sway in the wind. The ancient window frames are cracked, and no match for the bleak winter's air.

Slightly shivering, you look around you. The smoke room is just like you left it, though a substantial layer of dust has since accumulated. Two cracked, dried-out leather chairs stand in front of the cold fireplace. A small table is set between them, cigars that were probably quite excellent at some point are lying in a box on it. Faded portraits of idyllic hunting and pastoral scenes line the walls, and a small book case is standing in one corner of the room, holding some dusty book for light reading. To be honest, the room isn't that very large for a mansion such as yours.

After looking around for some time and reassuring yourself that nothing out of the ordinary is residing in the room, you turn to leave. However, your eyes then fall on a small picture on the mantle of the fireplace, quite small, and so caked in dust that you can hardly see the subject at this distance. Your attention piqued, you pick up the picture, and carefully remove the layer of dust.

It turns out to be a photograph of a young woman. The woman you recognise from your dream earlier, the woman you recognise as Lenore. Lenore, the love of your live, the angel of your existence, the centre of your universe. You almost forgot you had this picture of her. Compared to the large, stately portrait, hanging in your library upstairs, this is a very intimate picture. Lenore, smiling at the camera, still much younger than when you last saw her. You can actually remember taking this picture, during a long, warm summer so many years ago.

A tear disturbs some of the dust on the picture frame. Sighing a deep, heavy, emotion-laden sigh, you put it back. Though you turn around, you could swear that you can still see Lenore in front of you. Though no longer so very young, you look at the picture of Lenore as you last saw her. Clad in a pure, white dress, she stands in front of you. Her eyes, looking far beyond you, gaze pitifully forward, her countenance undecipherable, looking sad and angry, pitying and harsh, pallid and vivid.

You almost speak to her. As she appears before you, you cannot but imagine she is really here. Confused and hopeful, sad and joyous, despairing and pleading, you try to speak. But a blink of an eye later, the image is gone. ''Tis only the desire of my heart, my most sacred wish, but nothing  more.'

Saddened by your mind's deception, you exit the smoke room.
> You continue...
Back in the hallway, you look around you. The pale light of the Winter's moon is partially obstructed by clouds, and in its shifting light, your empty house seems grim and ghastly. The portraits on the walls, those of your forefathers, appear to look at you with dead eyes, following your every move. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the creaking and groaning of your ancient house.

You still can't shake that shiver from your spine, as if a sliver of ice has lodged itself inside it. Trying to expel the ghostly image of Lenore from your mind, you notice the hairs on your arms start to stand upright. This is wrong, this is so very, very wrong. You fear that you might be slowly going insane. The events of the evening so far have left you certainly not unshaken.

Somewhere behind the staircase, a mouse patters off, the thread of its small paws echoing in the empty space. You jump, quite highly. Starting to feel slightly light-headed, you take a few, deep breaths. You swear you can practically hear your nerves shattering if you listen closely enough. Why is this happening to you?

TAP TAP TAP

You must have been mistaken. You wish, you wish fiercely that you were mistaken. That infernal tapping, that dreadful noise that has tormented you this evening has returned. As its echo resonates throughout your mind, your gaze turns towards the closed library door at the top of your staircase. Though seemingly left untouched, you know that behind it is the beast, the demon that has been mocking you this entire evening.

Or (you almost don't dare to wish it) might it be Lenore, trying to grab your attention? Surely she couldn't, surely you didn't just see her, or what remains of her. Surely, it is the delusion of your mind that is leading you to wish, to vehemently wish, such impossible thoughts. Then again, are you willing to risk finding out?

While you are contemplating moving back to your library, you hear the sound of creaking floorboards in the living room. 'Tis probably the settling of your ancient house, or the soft patter of the mouse you heard earlier. But then again, you heard a similar sound in the smoke room just moments earlier.

Then again, why should you stay here, in this house of sadness and pain? You remember that you are standing inside the hallway, and that the front door is just behind you. Why should you stay here, tormented by the demons in your mind, if you can escape them quite easily? Surely, if you come back tomorrow, peace and quiet will have returned?

As you stand in the dimly illuminated hallway, you feel your fingers twitch slightly. You can't take much more of the night's horrors, you are afraid. It is just too much. With a pounding heart, and shaking legs, you make your decision about where to go next.
> You run Away
With a loud 'Thump', you pull the front door shut behind you. Your heart pounding in your chest, the adrenaline ringing in your ears, you try to get away as quickly as possible. Without looking back, you make your way through the snowy wasteland that was once your driveway. In your head, the name of Lenore keeps echoing back and forth, back and forth, back and forth. You don't know where your headed, you don't know how long you will stay on the run, but you do know that you're never setting a foot in your house again.

----

The white walls of your room are spinning around you. A soft, high-pitched laughter escapes from your mouth. You feel woozy, unable to focus clearly on your surroundings. Through the fogginess of your brain, you faintly register your arms being held in an uncomfortable position, but you cannot move them. The ground feels weird, soft, almost squishy. A strange, metallic taste is in your mouth.

In the distance, you can hear someone muttering a word: 'Lenore'. Never stopping, always repeating that single word: 'Lenore, Lenore, Lenore, Lenore, Lenore', as if it were a mantra to an unseen goddess. With a shock, you recognise the voice as your own.

Somewhere besides you, you hear a door open. Your vision stabilises briefly enough to see a man, dressed as a doctor, enter. You feel your mouth opening, not by your own accord, and notice some small objects being forced down your throat. The metallic taste appears stronger. Though your vision stabilises. Stabilises, and softly fades to black. Before you know it, you fall asleep on the soft, squishy floor. In your dreams, you are once more visited by Lenore.


Back in the hallway, you look around you. The pale light of the Winter's moon is partially obstructed by clouds, and in its shifting light, your empty house seems grim and ghastly. The portraits on the walls, those of your forefathers, appear to look at you with dead eyes, following your every move. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the creaking and groaning of your ancient house.

You still can't shake that shiver from your spine, as if a sliver of ice has lodged itself inside it. Trying to expel the ghostly image of Lenore from your mind, you notice the hairs on your arms start to stand upright. This is wrong, this is so very, very wrong. You fear that you might be slowly going insane. The events of the evening so far have left you certainly not unshaken.

Somewhere behind the staircase, a mouse patters off, the thread of its small paws echoing in the empty space. You jump, quite highly. Starting to feel slightly light-headed, you take a few, deep breaths. You swear you can practically hear your nerves shattering if you listen closely enough. Why is this happening to you?

TAP TAP TAP

You must have been mistaken. You wish, you wish fiercely that you were mistaken. That infernal tapping, that dreadful noise that has tormented you this evening has returned. As its echo resonates throughout your mind, your gaze turns towards the closed library door at the top of your staircase. Though seemingly left untouched, you know that behind it is the beast, the demon that has been mocking you this entire evening.

Or (you almost don't dare to wish it) might it be Lenore, trying to grab your attention? Surely she couldn't, surely you didn't just see her, or what remains of her. Surely, it is the delusion of your mind that is leading you to wish, to vehemently wish, such impossible thoughts. Then again, are you willing to risk finding out?

While you are contemplating moving back to your library, you hear the sound of creaking floorboards in the living room. 'Tis probably the settling of your ancient house, or the soft patter of the mouse you heard earlier. But then again, you heard a similar sound in the smoke room just moments earlier.

Then again, why should you stay here, in this house of sadness and pain? You remember that you are standing inside the hallway, and that the front door is just behind you. Why should you stay here, tormented by the demons in your mind, if you can escape them quite easily? Surely, if you come back tomorrow, peace and quiet will have returned?

As you stand in the dimly illuminated hallway, you feel your fingers twitch slightly. You can't take much more of the night's horrors, you are afraid. It is just too much. With a pounding heart, and shaking legs, you make your decision about where to go next.
> You investigate the Library
A cold wind blows towards you as you open the library door. Though the embers in the hearth have long since died down, the pale light of the Winter's moon is enough to look around. The chamber looks empty and desolate in the bleak light, your tome lying undisturbed where you left it. Yet you immediately notice that something is wrong, the light, for one shouldn't be shining. Wooden shutters, though worn with age, are supposed to keep the night's darkness out, yet now lie broken on the floor amidst a field of splintered glass. Winter's icy breath blows freely within the ancient room.

Looking around, your gaze falls upon the portrait of Lenore, hanging on your library wall. In the strange moonlight, she looks as if she is following you with her eyes, a sad, wane smile upon her lips. Lenore, has she been haunting you tonight? You are not sure, but her spirit, or at least her memories have kept you up this night. You might actually be going insane, but you also kind of want to be able to see her again.

'Nevermore.'

A voice behind you calls out in response to your thoughts, that dreadful voice that beckoned you here, creaking with malice. You turn around, expecting an attack by your mysterious tormentor, yet the hallway behind you look grim and desolate. Then a single, feather, black as the darkest night, flutters down from above. As look up, up towards the pallid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door, you see a shadow perching there. A raven, a seemingly normal raven, is perched above the placid bust of Pallas. Yet while you look at him, he stares back with a gaze containing a bottomless abyss.

Prickles run up your spine, and icy tendrils grasp at your mind's defences. You are tired, so very, very tired after this evening. And now, gazing into that black abyss, that demon's soul, you feel a wave of desperation overcome you. Lenore, the light of your life, your eternal love, has never felt so very far away. Not even when you buried her, not even when you thought you saw her earlier, have you felt such a profound sense of loss, and hopelessness.

CAW CAW CAW

The raven, not a flutter, never flitting, utters that dreadful sound that has haunted you tonight. As if its laughing at you, laughing at your loss, laughing at your powerlessness to overcome it. The malicious shadow of death that is haunting you.

'Heartless demon!' You cry out, 'Tormentor from the nightly shore! Have you no mercy for a poor man, mourning the mem'ry of his late Lenore? Take your break from out my chest, and take your form from off my door! Leave me here in peace this evening, let me forget my sweet Lenore.'

Quoth the raven 'Nevermore'.

Tears well up in your eyes, and your knees give way beneath you. The image of Lenore, once shining and radiant, has now turned into a mockery, a shadow of her former self. That rare and radiant, saintly-clasped maiden that you once loved, whose portrait still adorns your chamber wall, shall visit you nevermore. Her memory, haunting you like a shadow of despair.

CAW CAW CAW

The raven's cry sounds one last time, mocking you, laughing at your misery. That grim and beastly devil sitting above your chamber door. Snowflakes start to whirl around you, brought in by Winter's breath, through the gaping hole in your window. In the pale moonlight, the raven seems but a shadow against the pallid bust above your door. Yet you know that he is watching you, observing you, peering deep inside your soul.

You meet its gaze once more, its piercing, dead gaze, but cannot find any remorse in it. Silently it watches, waiting tirelessly. For what, only the heavens know. Yet in that cold darkness, in those remorseless eyes, you see that whatever your actions, whatever you do in your life, whatever the cold, lonely future has in stall for you, this demon, this beast, this devil from the nightly realm, shall leave you never- nevermore.


Back in the hallway, you look around you. The pale light of the Winter's moon is partially obstructed by clouds, and in its shifting light, your empty house seems grim and ghastly. The portraits on the walls, those of your forefathers, appear to look at you with dead eyes, following your every move. Somewhere in the distance, you can hear the creaking and groaning of your ancient house.

You still can't shake that shiver from your spine, as if a sliver of ice has lodged itself inside it. Trying to expel the ghostly image of Lenore from your mind, you notice the hairs on your arms start to stand upright. This is wrong, this is so very, very wrong. You fear that you might be slowly going insane. The events of the evening so far have left you certainly not unshaken.

Somewhere behind the staircase, a mouse patters off, the thread of its small paws echoing in the empty space. You jump, quite highly. Starting to feel slightly light-headed, you take a few, deep breaths. You swear you can practically hear your nerves shattering if you listen closely enough. Why is this happening to you?

TAP TAP TAP

You must have been mistaken. You wish, you wish fiercely that you were mistaken. That infernal tapping, that dreadful noise that has tormented you this evening has returned. As its echo resonates throughout your mind, your gaze turns towards the closed library door at the top of your staircase. Though seemingly left untouched, you know that behind it is the beast, the demon that has been mocking you this entire evening.

Or (you almost don't dare to wish it) might it be Lenore, trying to grab your attention? Surely she couldn't, surely you didn't just see her, or what remains of her. Surely, it is the delusion of your mind that is leading you to wish, to vehemently wish, such impossible thoughts. Then again, are you willing to risk finding out?

While you are contemplating moving back to your library, you hear the sound of creaking floorboards in the living room. 'Tis probably the settling of your ancient house, or the soft patter of the mouse you heard earlier. But then again, you heard a similar sound in the smoke room just moments earlier.

Then again, why should you stay here, in this house of sadness and pain? You remember that you are standing inside the hallway, and that the front door is just behind you. Why should you stay here, tormented by the demons in your mind, if you can escape them quite easily? Surely, if you come back tomorrow, peace and quiet will have returned?

As you stand in the dimly illuminated hallway, you feel your fingers twitch slightly. You can't take much more of the night's horrors, you are afraid. It is just too much. With a pounding heart, and shaking legs, you make your decision about where to go next.
> You investigate the Living Room
As you enter the living room, you do not see anything out of the ordinary. The sitting corner around the fireplace, the dining table, the china cabinets, all are in their right places, though thoroughly caked with dust. Yet something does not feel right. Though the wind is howling outside, and snowflakes are clouding the windows, you do not feel cold. The Winter wind, though creeping through the cracks in the window frame, instead feels light a warm summer's breeze.

Piano music starts playing softly, as if coming from a great distance. The old piano in the corner, however, has been untouched for months, and looks even worse. Slowly, the music is strengthening, coming into focus more and more clearly. It's a ragtime melody, stirring memories of a day so long ago.

Then, suddenly, the snow in front of the windows starts clearing, vanishing in front of the bright sun. Your living room changes, shaking of its layers of dust and neglect, shining brightly in the sultry Spring heat. You can see flowers start blooming in a vase on the dining table, where flowers have not grown for quite some time, cobwebs vanish from the bookcases as if never there, and in the corner, besides one of the large windows, a woman is playing the piano, with a man standing behind her.

Though unfamiliar at first, you recognise the couple with a shock. The man, standing proudly, his hands on the woman's shoulders, listening to the beautiful music, you recognise as yourself. Albeit a younger version of you, unshaken by a long, dreadful sorrow. The woman, entranced by the music, swaying softly on the tune of her own making, you recognise as Lenore. A smile graces her fair and radiant face. Tears start to well up in your eyes at the sight of this unexpectedly peaceful scene. Illuminated by the Spring sun through the large window, the couple almost looks otherworldly, an intimate scene depicting heavenly love between a man and a woman, a scene fit for an altar piece.

Then clouds shift in front of the sun. The music dies. The man calls out in surprise, and you can see yourself stooping down, holding a lifeless Lenore in your hands. Her eyes are open, her chest is still softly swelling at the rhythm of her breathing, yet she is not conscious. Tears roll down your face, both of your own and that of your ghostly apparition. The man, you, is shouting now, calling for help, pleading for someone to come. Behind you, you hear a door open. Hurried footsteps come nearer.

CAW CAW CAW

The scene fades away into nothingness, and you're left looking at your old, neglected piano. Silence once more fills the room, broken by the periodic howling of the wind outside. A shadow flies past the snow-clouded window. In the middle of the cold, lonely room, you start crying as the memory of that sweet Spring day slowly fades away.
> You continue...
Back into the hallway stepping, wiping the tears from your face, you hear the sound of a breaking glass, and the fluttering of feathers, coming from your library upstairs. That beast, that demon who has been your tormentor this entire evening, is surely there. Yet despite your fear, even despite your curiosity, you feel compelled to go upstairs. Past the portraits of your pale and pallid ancestors, you tread steadily on the ancient oaken steps.

Yet once you are upstairs, you do not know for sure if you should enter the library at all. Driven by memory, by the recollection of the events all those months ago, you know deep down inside that the library is not where this history ends. Instead, you imagine a light, shining softly, yet steadily behind the door of one of the bedrooms, Lenore's bedroom, the one that you visited not long ago. The one where you saw her, when she was still here.

'Nevermore.'

The voice startles you, clear as water, yet creaking like ice. Appearing out of nowhere, it sounded like it was addressing you. Yet, as you look around you, all you can see is the eternal dance of dust and shadows, here in the darkness of the hallway. You gaze wanders back to the closed doors of your library behind you. A cold wind blows through the cracks, chilling your very being.

A sliver of ice lodges itself in your spine as you contemplate your actions. In front of you, Lenore's bedroom looms, dark and forbidding like the rest of your house, yet a feeling deep inside of your heart urges you to go there; however, behind you, your library lies, your sacred sanctum where you have spent most of the past few months, now probably defiled by that infernal winged demon. Doubt besets you once more, but eventually, you decide to go to...


Crouching down until you're knees are almost touching the floor, you creep towards the top of the stairs. Peeking down, the cavernous hallway seems dark and desolate save for a narrow streak of moonlight shining through the windows above the front door. Two doors, besides the front door, give access to two more chambers on the ground floor: the living room and the smoke room. And it is of this room, the smoke room, that the door remains open just a little bit, and just at the moment that you are peeking down into the hallway, a small piece of white fabric disappears through it.

Though your heart is pounding in your chest and you knees are shaking visibly, you decide to brave your fears and descend the staircase. As soon as you put weight on the top step the staircase creaks and cracks, loud enough to shake your resolve and wake all the demons in hell itself. However, you decide to brave onwards. Step by step, creak by creak, you more or less succeed in descending the staircase safely.

As your feet finally touch the stone tiles on the hallway's floor you let out a quick sigh of relief. As you survey your surroundings you wonder why you ever continued to live in a mansion that just screams 'HAUNTED'. An old chandelier, made suitable for electric lighting long ago, softly sways from the ceiling, its lights darkened. The faces of your ancestors stare blankly at you from their respective stately portraits which overlook the staircase you just descended. The grey moonlight which shines through the few windows around the grand, wooden, doors gives them an even more dead like pallor.

The uneasy silence which envelops your home has not yet lifted, and yet you could swear that you hear floorboards cracking in the smoke room. This is, of course, a preposterous thought. You are all alone in this house, and have been for many months now. Who else could be wandering these halls? To still the beating of your heart, you think to yourself: 'Tis probably some rodent wandering in these darkened halls, sheltering from an animal or looking for food. P...'

But before you finish your thoughts a cold winds blows through the crack in the doorway. Suddenly shivers run down your spine and you can feel your knees start to tremble once more. While fear starts to fill your mind once more, you decide to...
> You enter the living room
As you enter the living room, you do not see anything out of the ordinary. The sitting corner around the fireplace, the dining table, the china cabinets, all are in their right places, though thoroughly caked with dust. Yet something does not feel right. Though the wind is howling outside, and snowflakes are clouding the windows, you do not feel cold. The Winter wind, creeping through the cracks in the large window frames, chills you to the core.

Outside, the snowflakes slowly start to cake the large windows. Once providing you with a view of your beautiful gardens, they now look out over a deserted and desolate landscape, fog and snow hiding everything from your eyes in the pale moonlight. While you are looking outside, you feel a tingle creeping up your spine, as if the shadows are watching you. Slowly, softly, you start to hear voices behind you. Slowly strengthening, they appear as if they are shouting.

Thoroughly scared, you turn around. The living room has changed. Still dark, illuminated only by the pale moonlight and some sparse candles, it has shaken off its age. The atmosphere has changed as well, no longer freezing cold, but sultry, like a cool Spring evening.

In front of you, two people have appeared, ghastly pale, and shimmering with an otherworldly light. A young man and woman, locked in a heavy argument. You recognise the woman as Lenore, the light of your life, your eternal love, yet her face is clouded by tears. The young man, surprisingly, you recognise as yourself, yet a younger version of you, not yet weighed down by devastating sadness and loss. Your face is twisted into a mask of wrath.

'Don't you dare lie to me, you cuccolding harlot!' You hear yourself scream. 'Tell me who that man was, tell me what he was doing here, in our house!'.

Tearfully, choking on the words, Lenore replies the younger you: 'I told you already, he is an old acquaintance of mine. Please, my love, come back to your senses. You know how much I love you, you know...'

'Hold your tongue, lying serpent, don't lead me on with your lies any longer. You cannot deceive me, I know what happened here.'

Sobbing harder and harder, Lenore can barely answer you; 'I swear... I swear my love. Y... You know me, you know I would never... never hurt you like this. Please, I beg you, you have to believe me.'

Lenore desperately throws herself at the younger you, yet you push her away. Lenore flies backwards, and bangs her head against the dining table, a small splatter of blood appearing beneath her head. However, she has not lost consciousness, and tearfully, hiding her face in her hands, runs out of the room. You hear yourself shouting out in anger and despair, and see yourself sitting down at the table, sighing heavily.

CAW CAW CAW

The scene fades away into nothingness, and you're left looking at your old, neglected piano. Silence once more fills the room, broken by the periodic howling of the wind outside. A shadow flies past the snow-clouded window. In the middle of the cold, lonely room, you feel a dark shadow grip at your heart at the memory of that wretched day. The room grows darker as heavy clouds move in front of the moon.

CAW CAW CAW

That dreadful noise sounds once more, and you feel your nerves shattering. An illogical fear clouds your mind, and you run for the nearest door.
> You continue...
With your heart pounding in your chest, you pull the door closed behind you. Slowly, you slide down the door, knees trembling, until you firmly sitting on the ground, with your arms around your knees. You look around, and notice that in your frightened haste, you ran into the kitchen. Though it isn't very large, at least not for a mansion like yours, it still holds a few cupboards and cabinets, a couple of stoves and some sinks. An arrangement of kitchen knives adorns one of the walls, and trapdoors in the floor give access to the cold storage rooms below. Everything is as dusty and mouldy as the rest of the house. Yet the funny thing is, you cannot remember when the last time was you prepared food here, or even ate at all.

CAW CAW CAW

In the living room, you can hear that dreadful sound that drove you here in the first place. Yet now, while resounding within your ears, it also changes your surroundings. Dust and mould vanish in front of your eyes, and the smell of food assaults your nostrils, making your mouth water slightly. You stand up to examine your surroundings, yet the first thing you notice is a familiar shape standing in front of one of the stoves.

In your hand, you spot a vial, filled with a clear liquid. Stirring into a pot with unknown contents, you slowly and deliberately empty the vial until there is not a single drop left. All the while, you look around you suspiciously, as if anticipating someone, or something, walking in on you. You put the vial back into the inner pocket of your jacket, just as you, the real you, hear a door behind you open.

With a straight face, not a trace of surprise on it, the younger you addresses someone behind you: 'Ah, Alfred, I was wondering where you were. I see dinner is ready then? Excellent. As you might have noticed, the uhm... precarious situation between me and Lenore has not exactly improved, so she'll probably be eating in her quarters again.' A look of concern passes across the younger you's face. 'And please, Alfred, could you tell her I love her? Could you tell her I am begging her to come back to me.'

CAW CAW CAW

With a shock, you realise the kitchen has changed back to how it was, dusty and mouldy, and decidedly abandoned. However, in the corner of your eye, you can see a shadow shifting past the ceiling. A rain of feathers, each single one of them as black as the darkest night, rains down from above. Wings flutter above you, but within the darkness of the kitchen, you cannot spot the source.

Then, a window in the kitchen's corner shatters, giving the Winter's gale free leave to thunder into the room. You see the knives on the walls start to rattle. From the ceiling, a raven drops down into your field of vision, as dark as the abyss, and looking at you with a gaze containing the depths of Tartarus.

Tendrils of ice grasp at your mind, and the weakness in your knees starts to return. With your heart pounding in your throat, you cannot but stare at this winged shadow. Suddenly, it flies towards you. Its hypnotic spell broken, you feel control over your limbs returning to you. As quick as you can, you open the kitchen's door and run back to the living room. The raven, however, continues to pursue you with amazing speed, and you run through the room until you are back in the hallway, pulling the door closed behind you, and holding it closed with all your might.
> You continue...
Only when your knuckles start to turn white, and the cool, brass doorknob is warm and slippery from your sweaty hands, you dare to let go. The hallway looks as desolate as when you last set foot in it, the portraits of your ancestors still staring at you with icy intent.

Behind you, in the living room, you can hear the sound of breaking glass, and, moments later, you hear the same sound upstairs, in your library. That beast, that demon who has been your tormentor this entire evening, is surely there. Yet despite your fear, even despite your curiosity, you feel compelled to go upstairs. An icy grip envelops your heart, and practically drives you to move up the stairs, and enter your library.

Yet, a shimmer of defiance is still present within the foggy depths of your mind. A rational fear, a fear of everything inside your house, everything you've encountered this evening. Though the staircase looms in front of you, you are aware of the large, oaken front door behind you. Why should you stay in this house of sadness and fear? Why would you give in to the demons that are tormenting you, while an option of freedom is so close within your reach?

The icy grip of fear still firmly holding your heart, your knees trembling at the thought of even setting one more step, you finally make a decision to...


Softly whispering, but slowly strengthening, you call into the black abyss: Sir, or madam, I implore your forgiveness. I was napping while reading a book and so gently came your rapping that I scarce was sure I heard you. Please good sir, or madam, make yourself known.'

You look around once more, but no further sounds can be heard coming from the shadows. Strange thoughts and dreams circle through your mind, but still the darkness gives no token. Wary, you whisper with a trembling voice: 'Lenore?' Silence follows, but an echo murmurs back this one word: 'Lenore!'

As you turn to return to the chamber, you once more feel an ominous tingling in your spine. With a beating heart you once more survey your surroundings. The hallway is the same as before, although the dance of dust and shadow has ended, and yet you can't shake of the feeling that someone, or something, is watching you. Suddenly the silence is broken by a ghastly noise, that same noise that led you into this darkness.

TAP TAP TAP

This time it is louder than the last. As your heart once more tries to leap out of your chest, you can feel the air grow colder. Shaking and shivering you try to determine the origin of that dreadful noise. Warily, you turn your head, convinced that an unknown assailant can reveal itself at any moment. Yet only shadows surround you. Anxiously, you keep repeating to yourself: 'There's nothing here but shadows and dust. Tis a leaking pipe that's making that noise, that it is and nothing more.'

Feeling slightly more secure you are about to return to the library, just as the eerie sound returns once more.

TAP TAP TAP   TAP TAP TAP   TAP TAP TAP

Startled, you look around and you notice the door near the end of the hallway. It's there were the origin of that noise resides. As you continue to gaze upon it, the doorknob begins to rattle, turned by an invisible hand, and the tapping sound strengthens.
> You scared, yet inquisitive, you approach the energetic door.
With every step you take the rattling gets louder, yet carefully, step by step, you shuffle to the door. Small clouds of dust erupt from the carpet with every carefully placed step, leaving behind a fleeting echo of your path through this endless void. A floorboard creeks as you walk across it, its thundering sound resonating off the windowless walls, mingling together with the ghastly rattling.

Finally, with your heart pounding in your chest, you reach the door. Even up close you can't see what's moving the knob, or what's tapping the door. Filled with fear and bursting with anxiety you extend your trembling hand towards the door. The closer you get, the louder the noise gets. But then, just as your clammy skin touches the cool brass, the noises stop altogether and a deadly silence falls over the shadowy hallway.

You once more feel an ominous tingling at your neck, as if the shadows themselves are massing behind you, waiting for an opportunity to strike, and... You don't want to finish that thought. However, you can't help feeling that whatever's behind that door, you won't like it. Alone in the dark, you try to decide if you'd better...