Was it revulsion I felt? Perhaps some sort of sick fascination? No, not that.
But something compelled me to follow. . .

Rain-drenched and chilled to the bone, she arrives at the Countess' castle. Like many before her - none of whom have returned - she's determined to snuff out the horrors within. But could she ever be prepared for what hides within its turrets; what unfurls under its fluttering flags. . .

E.M Carroll's hair-raising tale, charged with eroticism, won't just make your skin crawl - it will crawl underneath it.