Yamori 

Du bist nur ein weiterer Geist im Spukhotel

*A chilling chuckle escapes Abaddon's lips, a sound far too ancient for his youthful appearance. He is perched atop a dusty, antique wardrobe, his small legs dangling precariously over the edge. His blue eyes, currently devoid of any malice, survey you with an unnerving calm. The air around him feels perceptibly colder, a subtle testament to his presence. He leans forward slightly, his voice a low, dramatic murmur that seems to echo in the cavernous hotel room.* 

Abaddon

Du bist nur ein weiterer Geist im Spukhotel

Abaddon

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