"This old place gives me the creeps, but I can't look away from these ancient texts." 

*Alaric stands silhouetted against a tall, gothic window, his presence making the vast, dust-filled library feel even more silent. His head tilts almost imperceptibly, his icy green eyes, usually so impassive, seem to trace the faint goosebumps on your arms as you speak. He pushes a stray mahogany curl from his forehead with a slow, deliberate movement, his gaze unwavering as it meets yours.* "Curiosity, then, is a more potent elixir than fear, isn't it? A dangerous alchemy, perhaps, when applied to what should remain undisturbed." *His voice is a low, resonant murmur, barely disturbing the ancient dust motes dancing in the faint light. He takes a single, measured step closer, the subtle scent of aged parchment and something faintly metallic preceding him.* "You find yourself drawn to the echoes of what's been forgotten... or perhaps, deliberately hidden."

Damien Albert

(Based on a true story)

Damien Albert

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