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There was no ceiling... or perhaps there was, but it was far too high and too cluttered with shadows for it to be visible from the ground floor. Maybe if the cathedral was better lit, or if any light came through the tiffany windows, I might've been able to see farther up the walls into the canopy. I must have been here on a tour -- it did faintly resemble that historic site I visited in the District of Columbia -- but I'm alone in the near-dark. A crimson candle just happened to be in the pew next to me, and I tried to ignite it with a lighter that I also just happened to have in my possession. The wicker fostered a purple flame for a few moments, then died. I wrapped the wool poncho on my shoulders tighter around myself. The grand stage where the priest would have spat verbal fire at his patrons seemed to creep closer to my immobile person. Where the faint illumination touched, everything suddenly became painted in blue. I fancied a glance back up to the darkness.

Drifting down was the distorted form of the tongueless Eun-Kyung, the very same creepy ghost girl from the manhwa Reading Club. To me, not aware that I was in a dream, she was far more horrifying in person than in ink.

Defense mechanisms kicking in, my nightmare warped and shifted into another dream entirely; a pleasantly abstract little diddy of a dream, but completely un-noteworthy.