When I close my eyes I feel as if I'm entering a gargantuan temple of some kind, with sky high pillars lining the path leading to an altar at the end of the hall. The base of each pillar is dimly lit by antiquated, rusted braziers, and a ragged red carpet guides me to the altar. As I approach the altar I notice a statue of what appears to be a king resting on it. Once lifted, the statue reveals a pressure plate that it was holding down, and suddenly the ground beneath me shudders as the altar begins to move to one side, revealing a long staircase leading down, as far as the eye can see. As I descend the seemingly endless staircase, the recently opened entranceway closes behind me. I begin to hear sinister bells in the distance, yet somehow the sound is still able to cause strong vibrations in the ground beneath my feet. Torches line the walls of this descending hallway, and they are alighted almost as if some spirit is accompanying me, lighting my way as I go. When I look back, the torches in the distance have extinguished, eventually leaving me with an intense feeling of isolation as pure darkness awaits me in all directions. When I finally reach the bottom of the hallway after what feels like an eternity, I'm greeted by another grand hall, much like that I had seen on the surface, yet somehow even more ancient. Braziers placed in the exact same positions, but these were crooked and unlit, some even in pieces on the ground. Scraps of red fabric were scattered along the floor, presumably having been a regal carpet in a past lifetime. At the end of a hallway is a grand throne, in impeccable condition, compared to the rest of the hall; almost as if someone had been taking special care to ensure its preservation for years on end. Sitting - or rather, slouching - in the throne, is the skeletal remains of what was once a clearly great and powerful king, his royal crown still sitting atop his head. And what a crown it is - rubies lining the base, with emeralds and sapphires evenly spaced across the body. A large diamond was ingrained into the head of the crown, clearly valued greatly by whatever civilisation lived down here judging by its placing above all else on the king's outfit. My fingers twitch with anticipation and greed thinking about the riches I could get for this masterpiece, so I go to retrieve it from the king's remains. He's not going to be using it anymore anyway, right? As I grasp the crown, I am suddenly enveloped in a bright light, the origins of which I cannot determine. I am completely blinded, and I presumably black out. When I come back to my senses, I am kneeling before the altar I first encountered. In my left hand, I am holding a knife, with blood dripping from the tip. Suddenly I feel a sharp pain on my right wrist, and as I turn it to see what it is, I see an image of a crown carved into my skin. The wound is clearly still fresh, as blood is dripping down from the deep cuts I can only assume I myself somehow made while I was unconscious. I hear a voice, seemingly coming from deep inside my very soul: "Heed my warning, mortal; all who bear my mark are cursed. You shall return one day, whether it is by your own volition - or mine." [spoiler]Okay, I'm clearly no writer, but that was actually a lot of fun to write tbh[/spoiler]