Seline banged loudly on the locked door, crying out as the wood splintered, gouging into her skin, burrowing under her nails as she scraped then down the door, in hopes of getting it to open.
The room was old, seemingly about to fall apart at any time. The paint was peeling, the the blood across the blue walls brown with age. Seline continued to cry. What sort of demoness was she? She asked herself. To cry so, when she had faced the very pits of Hell?
She screamed out, as a particularly large piece of wood dug through her clenched fist. That was when the lights went out. And there was silence. Seline hated the dark. She was terrified. She closed her eyes.
"Hello?" Seline called out tentatively. In her heart, she hoped no-one would reply.
But they did.
"You are boring me, child. Die in your fear." A voice, neither male nor female said, in nothing more than a whisper. The dark became dim light, bathing the walls in blood red. Seline turned, and screamed.
And the House claimed Seline for its own.