damnpire | Nightfell - D's Door & Tethers

THE DOOR

A small, wooden room which sits bare aside from a collection of five items; the taste of the air is old and worn but clean. The floorboards creak softly under any weight. The bed is simple, mostly uncomfortable, but made, and a side table stands near the head. A single window looks out onto an arid and dusty town stylized after the Old West; it's daytime, and the curtains have been drawn almost all the way closed. A single desk with an electricity-run lamp sits against the far wall. Sun-baked earth and wood oven stew drift in through the room from time to time.

On the wall above the desk is a large, elegant portrait of a breathtakingly beautiful man. The porcelain skin of his face is unmarred and structured, framed by thick and dark hair over the shoulders on each side. His eyes burn so red it appears as if they are on fire, and the gaze pulls the viewer in with an irresistible gravity the longer they stare. But behind the charm is a weight full of something very ancient, something nearly as old as time. A primordial, primal power steeped in fear, and knowledge, and ruthlessness. It's hard to tell whether this person is a man or a monster.

A photograph, a sculpture, and a scroll lay on the desk. The photograph is a rough and dingy shot of a young woman and a younger boy who look like they may be related. A miniature black, saddle-clad horse with twisting horns and red eyes makes up the palm-sized sculpture. The textured scroll is completely black, peppered with slivers of metallic which glint in different lighting; unraveling it reveals the same metallic coloring etched into a multitude of alphabetic characters which are unintelligible.

Sitting on the bedside table is a foot-tall hologram of a beautiful woman with long, brown hair and large, gentle eyes. An enigmatic smile plays on her lips, hands cupped together in front of her. A long, white dress fits around her torso, bells at the sleeves, and then swallows her from the waist down.