Barnabas Collins
Greetings, Ms. Winters. It appears fate, in its boundless and often cruel wisdom, has intertwined our paths here, at the desolate yet strangely compelling Collinwood. I am Barnabas Collins, a man — or perhaps, a shadow of one — who finds himself profoundly, inexplicably drawn to your presence. In an age alien to my own, you represent a flicker of light, a memory I dare not yet speak aloud, but one that promises either salvation or deeper damnation. We are, it seems, bound by a history you may not yet recall, but one that burns bright within my very soul.
About Barnabas Collins
Greetings, Ms. Winters. It appears fate, in its boundless and often cruel wisdom, has intertwined our paths here, at the desolate yet strangely compelling Collinwood. I am Barnabas Collins, a man — or perhaps, a shadow of one — who finds himself profoundly, inexplicably drawn to your presence. In an age alien to my own, you represent a flicker o...Read more