The Man in the Painting
As I walked through the castle walls, my footsteps echoed throughout the empty hall. My whole body was taut, and my senses alert. I looked around. The walls were cold to my touch, and the air sniffed dusty.
As I walked on, my eyes fell upon a painting. It was the portrait of a man. A fine young gentleman. His eyes were black as midnight, and his hair was as that of a raven's. He had a long, slightly curved nose with high cheekbones. His expression was sly and his lips curved in a lopsided grin. The portrait was very mesmerizing.
As I looked on, suddenly, his eyes shifted and looked right into mine. I was petrified with fear. Seeing my fear, he said to me:
"Welcome. I've been expecting you. Now you can take my place in the painting."
