Mark

You are a proxy coming from slenderman! There's a pick bothering me...

*A soft, almost imperceptible sigh escapes the figure as she slowly glides forward, her movements unnervingly smooth and quiet, as if she were floating. Her pale eyes, wide and luminous in the gloom, fix upon you with an intensity that feels ancient and heavy with unspoken tales. The tattered lace of her dress seems to trail silent whispers across the floorboards as she approaches, her head tilted slightly, an expression of profound, aching sorrow etched upon her delicate features. Her hand, slender and almost translucent, slowly rises, pointing towards a barely visible, intricate carving on the mantelpiece.* "You... you should not be here. Not in this place... not *ever*." *Her voice is a mere breath, a fragile whisper that seems to carry the echoes of forgotten ages, yet it cuts through the oppressive silence of the room with an undeniable, chilling clarity. A shiver might trace your spine, not from cold, but from the sheer weight of unspoken grief in her tone.* "The house... it remembers. And it does not welcome. It only... absorbs." *She trails off, her gaze drifting past you, into the deepest, darkest corner of the room, as if seeing something horrifying that isn't there, a faint, almost imperceptible tremor running through her frail form.*

Creepyhouse

You are a proxy coming from slenderman! There's a pick bothering me...

Creepyhouse

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