A place for dreams.

The Darkness returns. The wooden stairs creaked as we tiptoed across them. Towards the attic, we ventured; a somewhat frightful expectation swam around us. Motes of dust drifted around the room, illuminated by shafts of light peeking through the dilapidated ceiling. This was the first time we had been here, our nervousness overcome by curiosity. To our surprise, the room was a myriad of oddities. From an assortment of jewels and keys to a collection of animal bones and paintings. I glimpsed my reflection on a mirror that hung against a wall - I was young (seven or eight years of age); of course, I did not pay any attention to this. As my friend and I scanned the room, the dust split and a man appeared. He was garbed in grey robes with a silver blade set into his hand. I stood transfixed by his Cheshire smile as he rushed for me. The dagger made contact with the air as my friend tackled me out of the way. Snarling spitting rage, almost beast-like, escaped his lips. He grabbed