There are secret places in this world, hidden doors, closed off rooms, which some remember. They remain in shadows, and there is darkness within them. I have stolen into one, accursed wretch that I am. Would I had never sought them out. Yet things are as they are. The darkness of these forgotten places ruminates long, and, safe from the light, the shadows there brood, considering the living rooms of reality they are banished from.
The shadows have seen me, and they creep from their rooms desperate to exist. I opened a door I cannot shut. Now the darkness comes.
Tale Told 