CRIMSON WHISPERS IN THE DARK

The gloom danced with a life of its own, twisting and turning as if whispering secrets to the moonstarsnight. A chill coursing through me, not from the cold, but from a sickness that clung to the air like smoke. The crimson hue, faint yet persistent, pulsed with a thrum that echoed in my chest. Beneath the Earth Its presence was felt through un