text: [Themes: fan fiction, serious, true story]
  
  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...
  
  > go to the library.
  You rest your trembling hand on the doorknob of the library for a moment. Doubting if you should continue down this path, yet curiosity, and an irrational desire to go to your library, make you open the door nonetheless.
  
  A cold wind blows towards you when you do so. From the corners of your eyes, you can see the shattered windows and their splintered shutters lying aimlessly, broken on the library floor. At the other end of the room, you can see the portrait of Lenore, glaring sadly at you. However, in the centre of your library, standing near the cold remains of the embers in your hearth, stands Lenore herself. Illuminated by a soft, yet pallid light that seems to emanate from her, she looks as beautiful as she was in her life, yet a ghostly pallor seems to dwell beneath her beauty. A scowl lies upon her tear stained face.
  
  At the sight of your lost love, you stand frozen within the darkness of the library. You try to speak, but you can't seem to open your mouth. Lenore steps towards you, and lays a single, pale finger upon your lips. Scornfully, she speaks to you: 'Shhh, be silent, my love. You do not yet need to speak. Not after what you did.'
  
  'Lenore!' You exclaim, regaining the movement over your body, wresting Lenore's hand from your mouth. 'Lenore, please forgive me. I was a fool, I know. I know I mistreated you, but please, I beg you, forgive me.'
  
  Lenore laughs, a hollow, dreadful laugh that echoes across the library. 'Forgive you? You're begging me? How could I ever forgive you for what you've done? You poisoned me! You killed me, because your own jealousy got the better of you. How could I ever forgive you? I dedicated my life to you! You were my everything, my eternal love. And you betrayed me, even as you accused me of doing the same. How did it feel, when you lowered my cold, lifeless body into the ground? Did you finally see the truth?'
  
  Tears roll down your face, and with a trembling voice, you answer the spirit of your lost love: 'I did. God knows I did. I know I was wrong to suspect you of cheating, I know I was wrong to treat you like I did. When I... When I buried you, I was overcome with guilt, with grief, with loss. These past months, you were the only thing on my mind. Your loss haunts me wherever I go. I am forever sorry that I have betrayed you.'
  
  A scornful, wrathful look passes over the ghastly pale face of Lenore. 'Mark my words, you lowly worm. I will never, never forgive you. You can plea, you can beg all you want, but I will never stop haunting you. Wherever you go, no matter how far you run, my shadow will be hunting you. I will never let you forget your guilt.'
  
  And with those words, Lenore disappears forevermore. You are left alone in your library, amidst the snowflakes whirling around you, and the pale light of the Winter's moon slowly returning from behind the clouds. You fall to the floor in despair, tears dropping down on the hardwood floor. Through the haze of tears and despair, you once more look around at your forsaken library.
  
  > Continue...
  Your library lies forsaken in the pale light of the winter's moon. The hearth's fire died, your tome cracked and spineless on the frozen floor. Soft snowflakes dance around the pallid bust of Pallas high above your chamber door. You take one last look at the painting of Lenore. Your dear, sad, lost Lenore. You wonder how long it will remain here.
  
  Treading softly on the broken glass, you grip the shattered shutters, the broken bones of your dying house. Winter grips your throat with his icy fingers. As far as you can look, the landscape is covered, softened by a blanket of white snow. Apart from the howling of the wind, only silence dwells in the deserted landscape.
  
  Beneath your bare feet, the splintered wood scratches and claws at your pale flesh. The broken bones leave splinters in your palms, a parting gift. You let go. Weightless, you take one last look into the dark abyss. In the distance, a shadow glides over the horizon. Pale snow floats weightless beside you, guiding your way. Its thick blanket growing larger, approaching rapidly from within the darkness. Through the fog within your mind, Lenore appears below you, beckoning you, tempting, calling. Lenore. The name echoes for an eternity, before the silence sets in once more.