Story 773: The Hollow Gift

Selene Nocturna stood in the dim glow of candlelight, her gloved fingers curling around a small blackened box. The lid was scratched with cryptic etchings, remnants of an ancient dialect long forgotten by mortal tongues. The air around it vibrated with an ominous hum, a whispering presence curling through the dust-laden chamber.

She tilted her head, her bloodstained lips twitching into something resembling a smile. This was no mere trinket. This was a curse made manifest, a relic woven with the screams of those long buried beneath the bones of Vareth.

"A gift," she mused, her voice soft yet laced with venom.