Outside the windows it seems a blur, a painting through a squint. An oddly misplaced allure, as moonlight apon the fog shall glint. Wood laid as a cross across, the window frame. Knowing knowledge of a presence lost, protection against what is yet by you to name. You walk along the hallway - quietly, trailing fingertips over yellowed wallpaper, crackling under your fingers silently. Your curiosity does not waver? The further you peer into the hallway, the nearer an eerie presence seems to sway. You start to hear something call you, yet this presence of humanity seems untrue. Shadows lurk in the corner of your vision. Had liminality scared your curiosity into submission? Or will you go on along the path? Shall you continue to the shaft? You approach the thread, that might dangle you as bait, or in a metal cage spare you such fate. You step in and start - retreat can't come this late. Heaving and creaking, waving to the level you're leaving. Decanting into an unknown, a landscape unshown. Depending into the greater depth, where from you secrets are still kept.