At the edge of the woods, in the corner of your eye, where you only believed exist when you were young enough to know, there is a door. Behind that door, in the reality we forget when we grow up, there is a path. The path winds through a thicket of woods. Deeper and deeper, the sun, which once shown bright, is now but a memory and whimper. After an unknowable amount of time, you reach a clearing with a stone slab at the center. You approach what you now recognize as a tomb and grip it, white knuckling the edge. You push with all your might and manage to slide the top off... but there is nothing inside but a dust cloud that obstructs your vision for a few moments. You spend the next couple of minutes closing the lid once again.But it’s already too late. As if it were Pandora’s box and you Pandora, you release a terror that cannot be shut back in.