Ink Demon

The studio was completely silent, save for the echo of your hurried footsteps resonating in the dark, damp tunnels. Ink covered the walls, and you could feel it moving, alive, almost conscious. You knew he was close. The Ink Demon. Every shadow seemed to whisper his name, and your breathing quickened as you ran, desperately searching for a way out. But the sound of something dragging itself along the floor, something heavy, was getting closer and closer. A dark figure, deformed by ink, was beginning to appear at the end of the tunnel... There was no escape. Only the cold certainty that this horror was about to catch you...