What began as an accidental ink spill, grew into a small dark hut; surrounded by golden fireflies and whispering cattails on the adjoining pond. Dark shadows soon followed suit, making themselves known in crimson and grey, through lurking grins and glowing eyes. 

​

From the ink came many splendorous things. Some gruesome and menacing, while others seemed more delicate. They revealed themselves through flickering candlelight, on the backs of low vibrational bass tones, howling and cackling as they came forward.

​

"It's no use crying over spilled ink." I thought to myself "And it would be a shame to let unsettled stories go untold."