A chateau stood on a slow, sloped hill, standing above a thick pine forest, the peaks of the trees sharp and severe. They glinted in the midnight moonlight like the teeth of some ancient behemoth, ready to snap closed and swallow the world if awakened. Thick fog seeped from between the dark spires, creeping and crawling out from the wood, licking at the edges of the berm, surrounding the rise on all sides.
The structure was an old thing, dark stone and shale, pale towers and draped in stark shadow from the moon's cool light. Its windows flickered with amber brilliance, glowing eyes set in its somber facade. A sudden flood of warmth as a wide oaken door opened to reveal a young woman, smiling and flushed. She fixed the clasp of her crimson cloak below her graceful neck, sweeping her dark brown hair back before lifting her hood and smiling to friends within. A final wave, a kiss thrown from pink lips by her fair slender hand... the door creaked closed, the latch snapping loudly behind her as she turned to face the night.
The air carried a chill though there was no wind. She shivered slightly as she walked down the stone steps. Turning to look over her shoulder, she hesitated, then pulled the woolen sanguine fabric tight around her, lit her lantern, and strode with purpose towards the waiting timber, and the path through it that would carry her home. As she descended into the mists, a wolf howled in the distance. Her eyes widened, blue green jewels on her fair, freckled face. She squared her shoulders and set out into the darkness. From the windows of the manor, the scarlet figure became a softly swaying radiance in the fog, and finally... vanished into the gloom of the forest.
There, alone in the inky blackness and murky mist, her smile dwindled. The rich green needles and vibrant flora of the wood emerged eerily from the veil, shifting and dancing ominously in the paltry gleam of the lantern. She lifted her light high, in defiance of the fear which deepened within her. Blades of wild grass grasped at her ankles. A twig snapped in the darkness, and she spun around to peer futilely into the trees. Her light dimmed by the abundant haze, she could see nothing beyond a few feet away. She gripped the metal ring of her lamp and listened. One deep, shuddering breath... two... Only silence now, not even the nightsong of insects and frogs. The stillness was severe and complete.
Onward, her boots crunched the dirt of the narrow path.
"Not far from home now," she said to herself aloud, her thin voice wavered against her fading resolve. It was difficult to be sure, though. She had walked this path many times, but the shroud that surrounded her was bewildering. Slowly, gently ... a breeze rustled through the wood towards her. The mist stirred around her. The wind rushed through the trees and flicked at the wet red folds of her cloak. It carried with it a sound that froze her to her very bones, a gravelly whispering voice that seemed to come from all directions and nowhere at once. Trembling, petrified in place, she drew back her hood and strained to hear the words...