Crimson Descent

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In the heart of an ancient, forgotten forest, there stood an abandoned manor. Its crumbling walls were said to hold the spirits of those who died there long ago, their souls cursed to wander its empty halls, forever bound to the darkness. The villagers knew better than to go near it—whispers of curses, hauntings, and dark entities spread for centuries. But for Isabella, it was a place of solitude, her refuge from a world that no longer wanted her.

Isabella was a woman of beauty and tragedy. Her fiancé, Marcus, had perished in a brutal accident on the eve of their wedding, leaving her heartbroken and lost. Unable to endure the suffocating pity of the townsfolk, she retreated into the wilderness and found the manor—her new home, and her final escape. Little did she know that something in the shadows had been waiting for her all along.

On the first night in the manor, as the wind howled outside and the house groaned under its weight, Isabella woke to a feeling of being watched. Her heart raced as she lit a candle and crept down the stairs, following the chill that ran down her spine. In the grand, decaying ballroom, she saw him—a man, shrouded in darkness, his presence both alluring and terrifying. His eyes, glowing faintly red, seemed to pierce her very soul.

He introduced himself as Valen, a being older than time, bound to the manor by a curse that had claimed his life centuries ago. Once a prince of a forgotten kingdom, he had fallen in love with a mortal woman, defying the gods who demanded his loyalty. For his disobedience, he was cursed to live in eternal darkness, his love forever denied.

Valen was no mere ghost; he was something far more dangerous. He revealed to Isabella the nature of his curse, showing her the truth of his existence—the blood on his hands, the souls he had taken to sustain himself in his prison of shadows. But despite the horror of his tale, Isabella found herself drawn to him. His loneliness mirrored her own, and in his cold, deadly embrace, she found a strange and twisted comfort.

The two began to form a bond—a connection that grew stronger with each passing night. Valen, who had not known touch in centuries, felt the stirrings of his long-dead heart, and Isabella, broken by loss, found herself seduced by the darkness he offered. She knew he was dangerous, that he was a creature of death and shadows, but the more she learned of his pain, the more she desired him.

But love, in a place like this, could never come without a price.

As their passion grew, so did the manor’s hunger. It was not just Valen that was cursed—it was the very house itself, feeding off the souls of those who dared to enter. And now, it wanted Isabella. The house whispered to her in the dead of night, promising her power, promising her eternity with Valen if only she would give herself fully to the darkness.

Torn between her desire for Valen and the creeping realization that the manor was alive with malevolent intent, Isabella began to unravel. She started seeing visions of Marcus—his face twisted in pain, his voice calling to her from the grave. The house was playing tricks on her mind, breaking her slowly, and Valen, too, became more volatile, his eyes growing redder with each passing night, his touch colder.

In a final act of defiance against the house, Valen took Isabella to the deepest part of the manor, to the chamber where his curse was first bound. He revealed the truth: the only way to free them both from this torment was for Isabella to give herself completely to him. In doing so, she would become like him—eternal, but at the cost of her mortal soul. If she refused, the house would consume her entirely, and Valen would be left alone once again, cursed to wait for another to take her place.

Isabella, trembling, realized that there was no escape. She could either lose herself to the manor’s malevolence or surrender to the twisted love that had blossomed between her and Valen. In that moment, she made her choice.

With a final kiss, Isabella gave herself to the darkness. The house erupted in a cacophony of whispers and screams as Valen claimed her soul, their bond now eternal. But as their love was sealed in blood, the manor itself began to collapse, its hunger no longer satisfied with just one life. The house crumbled around them, but Valen held Isabella close, their bodies entwined as the world around them fell apart.

In their final moments, as the walls closed in and the shadows swallowed them whole, Isabella realized the terrible truth. Valen had lied—there was no escape from the curse. She had not freed them, but had only ensured that they would be trapped together, forever entwined in death’s cold embrace, lovers in a tomb of their own making.

The manor, now nothing more than rubble, still stands deep in the forest. And on quiet nights, when the wind is still, the villagers swear they can hear the faint echo of laughter—dark, twisted, and filled with a love that had turned to ruin.