A dull echo in a vampire's gallery, each step a chime in a crawl-space endless, locked in age-old reveries.
Walls adorned with regrets—secure as they might be—held fast by an unseen hand, failing in its loyalty.
A lantern, trembling, flickered once in the chilled embrace of this night-extended hall.
Shadows stall and stretch like grasping limbs across cobblestone streets.
The city breathes with empty lungs, concealing within its arterial veins whispers of memories.
Echoes of laughter dance momentarily before dissolving into the mist of departing dreams.