Maryte's Damned Funk

Previously

…Suddenly, the dancers coalesced, their spectral forms solidifying just enough to cast long, distorted shadows. They drifted closer, their hollow eyes now reflecting not just the lamplight, but something far more chilling. In their glassy depths, Marytė saw glimpses of her own family. Her mother, her father, her brother – their faces were contorted in a silent, eternal agony, their spectral forms trapped in a grotesque dance, just like these entities. Their damnation was there, undeniable, a chilling echo of the music that now filled every inch of her world. The funk wasn't just a sound; it was a curse, a family inheritance of eternal, grooving torment. And she was next in line.