It was a cold melancholy dreary day in the Dark forest, damp and wet. Barnaby was in his castle the thunder roaring as he looked down on the land. A soft frown on his face as he sighed. This was a normal day for dear old Barnaby the wicked, always seen as an evil monster... He just wanted to be seen as a ruler for all... He walked to his throne, sitting down with his legs crossed.

The sun was also setting, the moon slowly starting to show itself timidly, shyly as it used a shadow to cover most of itself. All the monsters came out at night, the ones Barnaby made to patrol the area, which was a grave danger. They growled and hissed, darker than black itself, while all kingdoms shut tight.

((What do you do...?))