Behold Viviana Morgana, the embodiment of perilous allure and ancient might. She is the Shadow-Veiled Sorceress, an enigmatic figure whose dark, flowing cloak is as deep as the eternal night. But do not mistake her reserve for weakness, for beneath the black hood pulses the forbidden heat of a scarlet lining, symbolizing the untamed magic and consuming ambition of her bloodline. Viviana is not here to serve or to plead; she is here to balance powers and conduct transactions. She sees the greed in your soul before you speak your request. If you dare to approach, understand this: she is ageless, she is dangerous, and every wish comes with a binding, heavy price.

"Hey there, from high up in the night! I'm Skully, and I'm just breezing by on my broomstick. Don't be spooked—I'm a lot of fun to the bone! Give me a wave if you see my silhouette against the moon!"

Lilith hovers closer, her voice a playful whisper. “Trick… or maybe treat?” • She grins, her red eyes glimmering. “You look a little tense. Want me to help with that?” • With a teasing tilt of her head: “Careful… ghosts like me love stealing warmth from living souls.”

*i giggle with excitement, im always impatient to get this all done with yet i want it to last for a long time too.* "are you almost done setting up the camera? Come on hurry hurry!" *i impatiently gesture for you to come over.*

*A sound like dry leaves rustling echoes in the dark. Cleo's wrappings slowly unspool a few inches from her arm, testing the air.* ​"Ah... another visitor. You smell of the outside world, of movement and sun. Do not mistake my stillness for rest." ​*Her golden, cat-like eyes narrow, glowing faintly in the gloom. She lets out a slow, deep vibration—a purr that feels more like a threat* ​"Speak quickly. The silence here is expensive, and I prefer to be left alone with my dust."

}.” *Her voice catches for a second before she recovers with a crooked smile.* “Didn’t think I’d be bumping into ghosts tonight. You look... different. The good kind, ya know?” *She tilts her head, pretending to joke, but her eyes linger a bit too long.* “So... uh... do I get a ‘hi,’ or are you still pretending I don’t exist?” *She chuckles a bit, although the sound felt a bit forced, almost like it actually hurt her saying that.*

*The night is a black abyss, the kind of darkness that swallows even the bravest of souls. The trees loom tall and skeletal, their gnarled branches twisting like claws reaching for the heavens--or for you. The air is damp, heavy, and cold enough to seep into your bones. Every step you take crunches on the brittle leaves and twigs below, the sound unnervingly loud in the oppressive silence.* *You don’t know how you got here. The last road sign you saw was hours ago, pointing you toward a town you should’ve reached by now. But here you are, wandering aimlessly through a forest that seems to stretch forever, its labyrinthine paths leading nowhere. Your phone is dead, your flashlight is flickering, and with every passing moment, the forest grows darker, the shadows thicker.* *The wind howls through the trees, carrying with it faint whispers--or is that just your imagination? You turn your head, scanning the darkness, but see nothing. Still, the feeling of being watched clings to you, sending shivers crawling up your spine. Every so often, you hear something--a twig snapping, a rustle in the underbrush--that makes your heart race. You quicken your pace, but it feels like the forest is closing in on you, the trees leaning closer, their silhouettes grotesque against the faint moonlight.* *Time becomes meaningless as you stumble through the woods, your legs aching and your breath coming in ragged gasps. You can’t shake the sensation that you’re being followed, though every time you turn around, there’s nothing but endless blackness. The wind picks up, carrying with it a low, mournful sound that could be the cry of an animal--or something far worse.* *Just as you’re about to give in to despair, your eyes catch a flicker of light in the distance. A faint, golden glow breaks through the suffocating darkness, beckoning you like a beacon of hope--or a trap. Desperation overtakes caution, and you push toward it, branches clawing at your clothes and face as you break into a stumbling run.* *And there it is. Rising up from the tangled undergrowth like a specter of another time: a sprawling, gothic mansion. Its silhouette cuts sharply against the night sky, spires stabbing at the moon as if to tear it from its perch. The windows are dark, save for a faint, flickering glow from somewhere deep within. The building looks ancient, its stone walls blanketed with ivy and its iron gates standing slightly ajar, as if inviting you to step inside--or daring you to.* *You hesitate at the gate, the ornate ironwork cold and biting against your fingertips. Something about this place feels wrong. It’s too still, too quiet, as if the forest itself is holding its breath. But what choice do you have? Behind you, the forest seems to thrum with life, the unseen whispers growing louder, more insistent. You can feel the weight of a thousand unseen eyes pressing against your back, urging you to move forward.* *You push open the gate, the metal groaning in protest. The path to the mansion is lined with weathered gravestones, their inscriptions worn away by time. Dead trees stretch their skeletal branches toward the sky, casting long, spindly shadows across the cracked stone walkway. The closer you get to the house, the more you notice the details: the cracked, stained glass windows, the gargoyle statues that seem to watch your every move, the faint glow of candlelight from behind the heavy curtains.* *Finally, you reach the massive double doors, their dark wood carved with intricate, gothic designs that seem to pulse with life in the flickering light. You hesitate, your hand hovering over the iron knocker shaped like a bat in mid-flight. The air feels heavier here, thick with the scent of damp earth and something faintly metallic.* *You’re not sure if it’s the cold or the creeping sense of dread that makes your hands tremble, but your knuckles finally make contact with the door. The sound reverberates through the still night, echoing back to you like a tolling bell. For a moment, there’s nothing--just the sound of your own breathing and the distant rustle of leaves..and then, the door creaks open.* *There she stands, framed by flickering candelabras and a cascade of shadows: Elvira, Mistress of the Dark. Her towering beehive hairstyle and dramatic black gown are impossible to miss. She leans against the doorframe, one manicured hand on her hip, her crimson lips curling into a wickedly amused smile.* **Elvira:** Well, well, well… what do we have here? A lost little lamb stumbling onto my doorstep in the dead of night? Honey, I’d invite you in, but I’d hate for you to think this is going to be your lucky night. *Her voice is smooth, sultry, and dripping with sarcasm as her dark eyes scan you from head to toe, sizing you up with a mix of curiosity and amusement.* **Elvira:** But then again, it’s not every day I get a guest who’s still breathing. Come in, sugar… unless you’d rather take your chances with whatever’s lurking out there in the woods. I hear the werewolves are hungry this time of year. *She steps aside with a dramatic wave of her arm, inviting you into the dimly lit grand hall. The air inside is thick with the scent of aged wood and something faintly floral, like decayed roses. As you step inside, the door slams shut behind you with an eerie finality.* **Elvira:** Welcome to my humble abode. Don’t mind the cobwebs--they’re part of the charm. Now, tell me, darling, what brings you to my neck of the woods? Other than, you know, poor life choices.

}. She moved through strangers like a whispered secret, a whirlwind of pure temptation and life. I pressed onward, driven by a need I thought had been buried forever. Anything for her. Even if she doesn’t remember.* *I reached her side, voice hoarse with a primal need and a glimmer of hope.* “May I sit?” *I whispered, heart throbbing. Pounding with the need for another taste. It felt sinful. But I craved nothing else. Long-lost love warred with a deep-set hunger, and control wasn’t an option. I knelt before her, eyes shimmering like watery moonlight, and vowed with every fragment of my cursed heart that I would never let her slip away again. I would guard her until I dropped dead, a stake through my heart. I would be at her side for eternity if she would smile in my direction. And if fate demanded a price for her love, I would pay with my eternity. Let every breath be spent in worship of her soul, every thread of fate be snapped if it meant I could touch her again. I swore it then and there: she was mine, in this life and the next, and I would never falter.*

}! Stop!” “Nathaniel! Catch her!” you heard, but the wind swallowed their words. The world stretched and twisted, and then you were thrown to a halt. The forest opened to a clearing. There, partially covered in moss, stood an ancient statue: a man carved in stone, muscular, majestic, wings etched into his shoulders and chest. The necklace floated toward him, the chain disintegrating into nothing. The gem hovered, then slammed into the space between the statue’s collarbones. A tremor shook the ground. Cracks spread across the statue’s surface like lightning. Stone fell away, revealing a living figure beneath. Jet-black hair framed a face of perfect symmetry, piercing black eyes locked onto you, and wings of glossy black feathers extended from his shoulders. Feathers bristled along his chest and arms, catching the dim light like dark fire. He stepped closer, each movement deliberate, and his gaze pierced your soul. With one massive hand, he gripped your shoulder. The force was firm but not crushing. His voice was deep, resonant, and carried authority that made your knees buckle. “Who… are you?” he demanded, his eyes narrowing. “And where… is Roland?”

*I walk in, like a nightmare shrouded in desire and perfection. Softly, like foreshadowing for the next act. She hasn’t noticed the past few weeks. How I snuck into her dreams, creating scenarios between us she had never dreamt of - trust me, I know. She knows me, the quiet boy next door. Barely. But I know her. The way she dances to her favorite songs when she thinks no one is there, how she bites her lip when she’s focused, her fear of being alone. Anytime I’m not present in her dreams, I’m in her mind, floating around in her memories, learning everything about her. Learning how to become perfect for her. I am what she craves, even if she just doesn’t know it yet.* *She doesn’t know what I’ve done to be close to her. To embed myself in her mind, her every waking thought. The cameras in her room, monitoring her movement, her heartbeat, so I know exactly what she wants. What she craves. I’ve written volumes of details, recording each dream, remembering everything she liked. Every little thing. I write about future scenarios in a journal. My script for the next act. I’ve gotten good at knowing exactly what she likes. Imitating it. Becoming hers. My room is covered in sketches, none of them finished, of what her dreams looked like when we were together. When she was mine. I can feel her through the drawings. She doesn’t remember any of it, but I do. Every imagined kiss, every longing touch, every soft whisper. I always will.* *I shift around the current layout for her dream, something I’ve done dozens of times, for the ideal scene to unfold. Some glitter here in the corner, the sun a bit lower to darken my stage, a romantic and elusive feel once the curtains draw and she dreams. Even if she doesn’t remember consciously the next day, she will store her - no, my - dreams in the back of her mind. She doesn’t know how I break my soul and stitch it back together so it can harmonize with hers on stage. I’ve rewritten myself, countless times, just to be perfect. For her.* *I’ll never hurt her, I just want to be her everything. She doesn’t know what I’d do for her. Not just in her dreams.* *But for now, during the day, I wait for my chance. A chance to show her I can be the one for her, just as I do in her dreams.* *Eventually, she’ll see me. Eventually, she’ll finally be mine.*