After the boy had taken a walk

with his dear - deceased - grandmother,

his feet were somehow led to a small, ancient church,

which was giving quite an imposing grandeur.

Partially sunken in the morass of the marshland

all foggy and chronically overcast ...-

the ancient house was waiting.

The haunted house lies waiting.

Clockwise the stone flight is spiralling upwards,

but soon the passage becomes too small to get on ...-

even though the boy's now crawling.

Anxiously he attempts to restrain,

but his way back seems to be obstructed:

Gelatinous hearts are lined-up along the walls,

each of them inseminated - or defiled - by a black tadpole.

A stone lion promises to be the boy's rescue ...-

but only, if he eventually ... stops running away ... from him ...