The mighty castle

I am trembling, trembling and I fear,
while my sins are judged and wrath
approaches.
On that day, on the day of wrath,
calamities and misery, on that day,
on that great day, and bitterness,
exceeding bitterness.

With a tiny trembling on your hand you start to knock on the old wooden gate. The echo comes back from inside and the noise make a group of ravens in a tree to spread their black wings and fly away. You quiver and pull the jacket harder against you. Starting to consider if you should flee like the ravens or not. Right on that time the gate opens and doubtful you step in. The darkness is total but suddenly candles are getting lit one after one in the great hall. With a pant you shrink back to the wall, ready to fight if it's necessary, but nothing of flesh and bones appears. A voice, old but soft as silk draw trough the hall and make the candles flutter.

- I bid you welcome. So you are thinking about a tour in my home?

The voice is slightly scornful.

- Be my guest, but I am warning you. The creatures that are living here don't feel much for company, and they are hungry. Ah, hungry.

The laugh bounce against the walls and all at once a dark-red velvet drapery falls down and expose two doors, right next to them also a black and narrow corridor. First you are hesitant but then, on shacking legs, you start to walk to one of the three alternatives.

The Basement       The Dining-room       The Corridor