Thriller. When the night falls and all you can see is darkness, everything becomes creepy. I can feel the fear shiver on my skin. It’s almost Halloween and nobody’s safe.

Creatures whisper she’s the black widow. She moves on the shadows, hiding from her curse. Maybe she’s the curse. The ghosts who torture her make her doubt everything. She doesn’t know who she is. Neither who she was.

She knows nothing unless her passion for the lake. She likes it there. She hides when she hears steps coming. I’ll put a spell on you for going away and never come back, she thinks. The lake is her place. Nobody else’s place but hers.

In the end, she doesn’t look for nothing more but loosing herself on her own torment. She holds the flowers of an old vanity on her hair. And the blood of guilty on her lips. She doesn’t know who she is. Neither who she was.