[house-of-usher]

Paintings on the Wall
Each painting on the wall has its own story to tell. They whisper to each other like adolescents sharing dirty secrets. Their shadows cascade down the walls, consuming them in black.
The cacophony of discordant whispers overwhelms my ears. The paintings snicker at my agony and bedevil my suffering. I can’t escape their torture and mockery. They are like devils for they delight in pain, but they are not what is deterring my soul.
At the end of this torturous hall presides a figure as dark as pitch. This devilish creature does not move nor does it breathe. The only thing that can be observed of this figure is two glowing orbs that reside under its dark hood. They burn my soul with their fiery gaze.
Its vehement eyes burn my soul to dust causing me to be paralyzed where I stand. The paintings look down upon me and cackle a heinous cackle.
“See how she suffers” they whispered to each other. “Observe how the demon consumes her soul and paints it black. See how he manipulates her and molds her to the floor on which she stands just by his mere gaze. Behold how she crumbles to
dust. Worthless insignificant dust that just takes up one more space upon our floor.”
I gaze upon the malignant spirit with terror written on my face. Not only can I observe its glowing ember eyes, but another grotesque attribute has materialized itself upon its face. There
has manifested a heinous pointed tooth grin that shimmers a frightening white.
The creature stares deep into my soul as though it is surveying every fiber of my being.
A shiver runs up my spine.
I sense all of my strength retreating my body as though it is being expelled from every pore.
My eyes fail to revert from the creature as it manipulates me like a puppeteer, pulling my numb body ever so closer to its distorted figure.
“Why do you delight in my pain?” I breathed, but the demon gave no response and the paintings continue to cackle.
“Why do you take merriment out of my misery?” I inquired the paintings. “You smile at suffering, laugh at agony, and demand death.” But their only response was their odious laughter that resonated through the hallway. They persisted to laugh until, one by one; each fell off the darkened walls onto the dusty floor which I stood.
Staring back at the spectator, I braced myself for my ultimate encounter with the beast. Gazing into its menacing eyes I spoke my final peace as the gap between the creature and I was enclosed.
“You have turned my soul black and crushed it to dust you demon of torture, but I swear to you that it will be raised again like Lazarus from the grave. You will no longer possess my soul and consume me whole.”
The demon laughed.