The Inner Chamber
A flicker in the dark.
Footsteps on gravel.
The scent of rust.
Cold breath against neck.
Silence screams,
and the labyrinth holds its breath.
Here, echoes are memories of the unsaid.
Do you dare turn the corner?
A flicker in the dark.
Footsteps on gravel.
The scent of rust.
Cold breath against neck.
Silence screams,
and the labyrinth holds its breath.
Here, echoes are memories of the unsaid.
Do you dare turn the corner?