Wraith

You enter the den.

The narrow walls press up against you and you shudder at the dampness against your skin. The world is black for a few moments until the tunnel opens up into a small cavern. Moonlight trickles through a ragged opening in the roof.

She is there, in the center of the room, surrounded by silken cloths and scattered pieces of gold. She is tiny, no bigger than a hatchling, her undeveloped wings tucked neatly around her disproportionate body. But she is not young, not as she appears. She ruffles her wings as you approach and her joints pop under the sudden movement. She has been sitting here a long time. Her scales glint blue as they catch the moonlight, but she blends into the shadows.

Except for her eyes. Her eyes do not blend.

Her head twitches to the side abruptly, tilting at an unnatural angle with a sickening crack as she observes you, her mouth falling agape. Those eyes burn through you.

She only speaks in tongues.

You were warned of this before you entered, but it still comes as a shock. Her glowing eyes are locked with yours as she whispers strange words, mouth forming odd shapes and head clicking back and forth.
She begins to voice your own thoughts back to you, still in that strange language, but somehow you understand. She twists her spine, bones clacking, and rises from her crouch. She crawls forward, inching towards you with every word.

...You leave the den.
You no longer remember why you entered in the first place.

Her eyes are nothing but two blue pinpoints in the darkness now, but she is still watching you. Somehow, you know, she will always be watching you.

The guards watch you with pity as you leave.