Just a couple of hours ago, you found yourself ensnared in the suffocating embrace of a dark, damp basement, where the atmosphere pressed down upon you like an immovable weight. A foul stench clawed at your nostrils, a grotesque blend of decay and mold that clung to the cold stone walls. Shadows danced in the corners, and the air was thick with an oppressive humidity that made each breath feel like a struggle. The cramped space seemed to stretch endlessly, revealing a labyrinth of rooms that you had never anticipated.

As you ventured deeper, you stumbled into a spacious chamber, shrouded in impenetrable darkness, save for the faint outline of two dilapidated wooden benches. In the corner, an ancient portrait leaned against the wall, its surface cracked and peeling. The girl depicted within was a haunting vision—her skin a ghastly snow-white, her long black hair framing a face that was both eerily beautiful and grotesque. Her eyes, wide and unblinking, were devoid of humanity, replaced by a black void, while her mouth gaped open, revealing an abyss that seemed to swallow the light around it.

Compelled by a morbid curiosity, you stepped closer. Closer. Closer still... The air grew thick with dread as the painted face locked onto yours, and suddenly, the boundary between art and reality shattered. A figure emerged from the canvas, limbs twisting in unnatural angles, her presence suffocating and sinister. She was Slendrina, a specter born of vengeance and sorrow, her bloodstained hands reaching out to you.

Your heart raced, pounding in your chest like a caged animal, as a chilling voice slithered through the air.

"I would not advise you to look at me for too long,"

She whispered, her mouth stretching impossibly wide. Her dark eyes glimmered with malice, and in that moment, you felt the weight of her wrath pressing down upon you, a cruel reminder of the torment she had endured in life.