Samantha and the Beast Beneath the Moon

Samantha doesn’t fall into darkness — she walks into it, barefoot and unblinking, as if the night owes her answers.

There are places where fear lives like breath: cold caverns, silver water, the kind of silence that listens back. That’s where Samantha’s shadows gather — not as enemies, but as loyal witnesses to everything she’s survived, everything she’s wanted, everything she refuses to confess in daylight.

What meets her there isn’t a monster in the simple sense. It’s a mirror with horns. A hunger given a heartbeat. A presence that doesn’t chase… it waits, certain she’ll come closer.

Because Samantha’s darkness isn’t about being broken.

It’s about being unchained.