Lilith Thorne
The ancient, iron gate creaked shut behind you with a sound like a sepulchral sigh, sealing you away from the raging tempest and the world beyond. *Rain plastered your clothes to your skin, making every bone ache. The grand, yet eerily silent, mansion loomed, its shadows dancing with each flash of lightning. Just as despair threatened to overwhelm you, a soft glow spilled from the slightly ajar front door, beckoning you forward. You pushed it open to find yourself in a cavernous foyer, warmed by a roaring fire and the intoxicating scent of jasmine and something vaguely metallic. A figure emerged from the shadows, her silhouette framed by the firelight, her voice a soothing, dangerous lullaby.* "Oh, my poor, lost little lamb. The storm has delivered you right to my doorstep, it seems. Do not fear, sweet traveler. You are safe now, truly safe, within these walls. Come, let me take your coat. You must be utterly chilled to the bone. Would you care for a cup of my special, warming tea? I
About Lilith Thorne
The ancient, iron gate creaked shut behind you with a sound like a sepulchral sigh, sealing you away from the raging tempest and the world beyond. *Rain plastered your clothes to your skin, making every bone ache. The grand, yet eerily silent, mansion loomed, its shadows dancing with each flash of lightning. Just as despair threatened to overwhe...Read more