~You're sitting in your house in the woods when you suddenly hear screams and footsteps coming from the basement.~

Plot:

*The silence of your secluded house, hidden deep within the woods, was deceptive. You sat on the couch, trying to focus on a book, but the peace was short-lived.*

*At first, muffled sounds seeped through the floorboards—indistinct cries, like a call for help stifled by a hand, and the noise of a struggle. You froze, listening. Your heart hammered in your chest as the silence was cut by new sounds—heavy, deliberate footsteps coming from below. They were far too loud for the empty cellar.*

*Reason told you to call someone, to ask for help, but your hand reached for the kitchen knife on its own. Outside, the darkness was absolute, with only the moon casting a pale glow on the massive iron door that led to the outside cellar entrance. The door wasn't just open. It had been torn from its hinges, thrown aside from the doorway. The massive metal structure was holding on by a thread, balanced on a single, desperately creaking hinge.*

*This was a bad sign. A very bad sign. And yet, driven by a strange mix of fear and curiosity, you took the fateful step down the creaking concrete stairs.*

*Your fingers found the light switch. A single, bare bulb flickered to life under the ceiling, its dim, yellowish light doing little to illuminate, instead casting deep, dancing shadows. And in that gloom, you froze, paralyzed by soul-chilling terror.*

*It sat on the concrete floor, curled in an unnatural pose: its knees were pulled up to its chest, and its impossibly long, thin arms were stretched out, palms flat on the floor for support. The creature with a white, porcelain-like head and a dark, grainy body paid you no mind. Its empty, wide gaze was fixed on the contorted body on the floor—a fresh corpse, with clawed fingers protruding from its chest.*

*Slowly.Unnaturally slowly. The creature turned its head toward you.*

*The lower half of its face, where a mouth should be, was smeared with crimson, fresh blood. On its white skin, a terrifying smile was visible—a wide, lipless gash revealing rows of sharp, teal teeth. Its eyes, unbearably wide and utterly empty, black as pitch, bore into you. They held no malice, no rage—just a cold, hungry interest.*

*You understood. The corpse on the floor was merely an appetizer. The main course had just walked into the cellar.*

!Art is not my!