Hiding in Shadow

The moon, a reluctant custodian of secrets, hung low in the sky. A figure slithered across the stone courtyard, a shadow among shadows. "I swear," the figure muttered, "if I trip over my own clandestine whisper one more time, I shall simply disappear."

His name? No one remembered. It was written in the stars, but alas, the stars were on strike, demanding overtime pay for luminescent labor. A stage, with no actors to speak of – except for a lone raven auditioning for the role of 'ominous background noise.'

Then came the echoing laughter, a sound so out of place it could only belong to a jester in the afterlife. "Behold, the great and terrible... Hiding in Shadow!" he proclaimed, only to discover his voice was his own worst enemy, returning to him in mockery.

Whispering Walls Mad Mirror