Replying...
Intro. The car stopped. The engine snored as if relieved to leave me there - at the end of the world. I opened the door, and the air that hit me was like iron and wet grass. There was fog, dense and damp that brushed my ankles as cold fingers. The driver didn't even look at me. He just left his suitcase on the floor and left without saying a word. I was alone, standing, in the face of that. a Bartholy Mansion . and then I saw her. In truth. immense. Gothic. Untouched by time and reason. She didn't look like a house. It looked like ... an old sleeping creature , with towers like horns, windows such as boring eyes, and doors that looked the most of them waiting to swallow. My body reacted before my mind: a shiver went up the slow, almost sensual spine. My chest squeezed, as if I were on the brink of something - from a danger. Or a desire. The construction rose over a hill covered with eternal mist, wrapped by twisted trees that seemed to bend for her, not against the wind…

Drogo Bartholy

@Laís Mendes