Black. Everything is black. It encroaches upon you, smothering you beneath its icy blanket. Only the moon sheds a faint layer of light onto the scene. The path is barely visible and you step cautiously, feeling the uneven stones jutting upwards from beneath your leather shoes. And then suddenly, looming out of the dark fog, the building appears.
It leans threateningly towards you, laughing. You gather your courage, take a deep breath and bang on the ornate doorknocker. You wait. Nothing happens, but did you really expect something to?
You gently push open the door, it creaks from decades of disrepair.
How long has it been since you were last here?

A dancing figure, clothed in white. An argument. A wedding ring, dropping silently to the floor. A dagger, soaked in crimson blood, dripping silently onto the floor.
Memories.

You shake your head. You forgot that all a long time ago. The only thing left now is the stench of regret. And the cobwebs. Of course, this house had always belonged to those cobwebs. In the distance you hear the ravens' harsh hawks. You begin to ascend the stairs.

That night the lights went out. The following morning they didn't come back on. In between there were screams. The blinding fury. The mindlessness. They all return to you like an unpleasant dream. If only they were.
If only they were. The following morning the lights didn't come back on. They never would.

Step by step it all floods back. But is has to end; you reach the top of the stairs. And here the cobwebs smother every surface. You brush them away as you move towards the end of the landing. They stick to you, on your clothes, in your hair, across your face. You try to pull them off you, but more stick to your hands. You scream.

She screams. Your hand twists the blade inwards. You look into her eyes as her lifeblood drips away. As she dies you stare at her face in shock. She stares back. After her eyes close you kiss her lips one last time.
Pulling your arms away you see they are covered in cobwebs.

*

And now you are at the door. The handles is turning. Why did you come back?