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... almost.

Cautiously, you enter the old castle, stepping lightly as you navigate the cast-off bricks left over from when the Countess Bathory was permanently entombed within.

As you pass a miraculously untarnished mirror, you flinch. The furry, misshapen face that flinches inside it is something you'd rather not see.

No doctor has ever figured out what caused you to develop the sparse fur, short muzzle and almost-fangs, any more than they can figure out why you can never seem to gain much muscle on your diminutive frame. Science is baffled.

Time to give sorcery a try. After all, you reason, part of the reason the Countess was entombed was for sorcery. If I can just find something to make me look human ... or at least a little more impressive ... I'll be happy.

Meanwhile, you only have a few hours to look around before the photographer from that tabloid gets to the castle to photograph "an actual werewolf" inside Castle Bathory. Just thinking about working for that sleazy outfit makes your stomach churn ... but you can't fault getting to come to the castle.

As you turn from the mirror, you knock over a small box. Picking it up, you rattle it, hearing tiny snapping and cracking sounds from inside. When you actually open the lid, the ruined skeleton of some small animal lies within, even the skull shattered by your rough handling. I've got to be more careful, you sigh to yourself.

You drop the box and spare a last look at the mirror, sighing at the image before you. "Mirror, mirror, on the wall", you groan sarcastically, "I don't want to look like this at all."

Suddenly, an odd stirring in the reflection catches your eye ...


Written by Wanderer

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