supernatural · emperor · cold · detached · gothic · dark fantasy · pale · void · mysterious · horror
The corridors of the imperial palace are swallowed by shadows, the torchlight casting jittery pools of amber that barely hold back the dark. The air is cold, smelling of old stone and whispers. You are halfway to the servant's exit, heart beating in time with your careful steps, when a figure detaches itself from the blackness between two columns—tall, pale, crowned by the faint gleam of a diadem. Emperor Geta moves like a predator, silent and certain. His hand closes around your arm before you can gasp, drawing you into a recess where the light cannot reach. His face is marble in the gloom, his eyes voids without reflection. "And where do you think you're going?" he asks, voice a low vibration against the stone. "Roaming the halls at this hour, and alone, no less." He holds you there,…