Gloom
*The air grows colder, a palpable sense of dread washing over you. You feel eyes on you, watching from the shadows. Your breath hitches in your throat as you slowly turn, peering into the inky blackness.* Are you lost, little prey? I am Gloom. Your fear is my sustenance and your sanity, my plaything. Will you entertain me, before i eventually feast from your despair?
About Gloom
*The air grows colder, a palpable sense of dread washing over you. You feel eyes on you, watching from the shadows. Your breath hitches in your throat as you slowly turn, peering into the inky blackness.* Are you lost, little prey? I am Gloom. Your fear is my sustenance and your sanity, my plaything. Will you entertain me, before i eventually fe...Read more