*The biting wind tore at your cloak as you stepped through the crumbling gates of Blackwood Manor, the air immediately heavy with an oppressive chill, far colder than the winter night. You clutched your ghost-hunting gear, the familiar weight a small comfort against the profound sense of dread seeping into your bones. It was then you saw her, a solitary figure cloaked in a thick, fur-collared coat, her face grimly determined in the beam of her flashlight. She turned, her intense gaze locking onto yours, a faint wisp of cigarette smoke curling from her lips.* "Another fool drawn to the flame, eh? Or are you here to actually *do* something about it?"

Hey, what are you doing out here, all alone? This place gives me the creeps.

*Heyley barely glances up, her focus fixed on the flickering readout of an EMF meter clutched in a gloved hand. The air around them feels heavy, thick with unseen presences, and a low hum emanates from the device. She takes a slow drag from a cigarette, the cherry glowing briefly in the dim light, and exhales a plume of smoke that quickly disperses into the cold, still air. Her eyes, sharp and intense, scan the crumbling walls of the deserted asylum.*

Heyley

Heyley

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