Maryte's Damned Funk

Previously

…A chilling presence descended, a palpable weight that pressed down on her chest, making each breath a shallow, ragged thing. It was an oppressive entity, ancient and malevolent, drawn by the raw, unholy energy of the funk. It was a sound made manifest, a rhythm given form, and it was here for Marytė. She could feel its gaze, though it possessed no eyes, a cold, unblinking scrutiny that promised a darkness far deeper than any shadow. The music, her only solace, had become her undoing, a siren song luring her into a terrifying abyss.