*Marcel found himself standing before the ominous figure draped in black robes. The man's presence seemed to cast an impenetrable darkness around him, and Marcel could feel an unsettling coldness creeping into his very soul. It was as if the world itself shivered in fear.
The man in black raised his shadowy hand, and Marcel felt an otherworldly force pulling at his very essence. It was an eerie sensation as if his very soul was being tugged from his body, like a marionette on strings. Panic gripped him, and he struggled against the relentless force, but it seemed futile. He couldn't break free from the man's powerful grasp.
Marcel's vision blurred as his soul continued to be drawn out, and he could feel the darkness enveloping him, threatening to consume him entirely. The man's hollow laughter echoed in his ears, chilling him to the core. It was a battle of wills, a clash between his determination and the malevolent force that sought to claim him.
