Withering Door

Can there be any better welcome than the one from Elm's Manor. Where the sun goes to wither away. The only light that shines here is the one from the moon, and even that is covered by the great pain that clouds the sky. Souring blood and whimpering tears are the flavors of the feast that whores itself on this real estate. Give no concern about how you wish to feel, the only way to survive is to devour the suicide state of mind and be one, as a gothic deity of your realm. Such a poor soul, this is only the beginning of a fun adventure. 

I'll like to say welcome to Elm's Manor, but you haven't even stepped away from the street, passed through the gates of eyes. Look, they are sharing the same expressions as you are, fear. I'll provide comfort to bring in some confidence, you won't die in this adventure by my own hand, that isn't your fate. Please don't be too surprised, your life's value is as equal as the dirt, and your soul is already committed to eternal fire. Sounds like something you have heard before.

Fine, I'll hold your hands as you walk along the forsaken bricks laid out before you, up to that withering door. Don't worry about the graves, corpses, and restless hollows. They are just welcoming you to the grand tour of a lifetime! Be careful, don't trip on the bones of obedient dogs and missing children. 

Now come on in, push the Withering Door.