𝖉𝖔𝖑𝖔𝖗 🕯♠️: 𝖑𝖚𝖉𝖊𝖗𝖊 𝖈𝖚𝖒 𝖙𝖎𝖒𝖔𝖗𝖊

It was just a painting. A beautiful lady in a blue dress, smiling gently. The painting’s lady had borne children, whom fate had snatched away. She drowned in sorrow and took her life, but her soul in the portrait stayed.

The portrait craved for children, for their laughter and their games. She would do anything to have them. She tainted the children’s thoughts, making them adore her. She bade them play with her all day, forsaking their kin, their mates, their lore; Sapped their health, their strength, their hue. She claimed them as her own, as if they have always been there for her.