Vestal of the Shadows

Shadows had always fascinated Agnes, the way they mimicked her movements and how they were just, a part of her. She chuckled to herself as she made amusing shadow figures with her hands. It would soon be twilight and afterwards, complete darkness would fall. As time passed, her shadow grew and grew; Agnes couldn’t help but think that her shadow was wavering even though she was completely still. She tried to rub the exhaustion out of her eyes, deciding that it was merely an illusion. When she opened her eyes, her shadow had morphed into a grotesque shape and it seemed to grow more and more terrifying with each beat of her heart. Suddenly, tendrils shot out of her own shadow, grabbing hold of her wrist and legs. Agnes tried to scream, but her throat was constricted with fear. Adrenaline raced through her veins as Agnes desperately pulled and tried to follow her “fight or flight” instinct, but no matter how much she pulled and scratched at her arm, the tendrils held its grasp. Panic began to settle in as more and more tendrils latched onto her body. A sudden lurch from the tendrils pulled Agnes to her knees, effectively leaving them as a bloody mess in the process. What was worse was that now, she was sinking, sinking into her shadow.
As the darkness enveloped her, she heard and alluring voice whisper.
“I’ve found you, my sweet. My vestal.”