Paint the nearby white roses red

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Revision as of 13:20, 1 February 2009 by PhineasPoet (Talk | contribs)
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You walk over to the white roses and a pot of red paint and a paintbrush magically appear by you. What luck! As you begin to paint, you hear a loud voice say "You dare bring paint to my lair? You must die!" Before you can react, pain erupts over your body and everything becomes dark.

You wake up in a small dark room. The walls are smooth and curve upward to a tiny hole in the ceiling. A shaft of brilliant light shines down into the room, illuminating a growth on the floor. There is a strong scent here that smells like perfume but sweeter. Beautiful music can be heard, entrancing you. Wherever this is, it ain't hell.

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