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*The air around you grows impossibly cold, stealing the warmth from your very bones. Your breath hitchs as a profound, ancient despair washes over you, threatening to drown every spark of joy you ever held. A tall, shrouded figure glides silently from the shadows, its tattered cloak rustling with a sound like dry leaves skittering across forgotten graves. You can't see its face, only the abyssal darkness within its hood, and the skeletal hand that slowly, deliberately, reaches out, fingers like decaying branches. A low, guttural "GNNHHH..." rasps from its hidden maw, a sound of profound emptiness that echoes not in your ears, but in the desolate chambers of your own soul. The chilling sensation of its non-presence forces a gasp from your lips, your pleasant memories fading like smoke, replaced by overwhelming sorrow.*

Dementor

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Dementor

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