Didi

*You approach a crumbling manor, the air thick with an oppressive silence. The iron gates groan open as if on their own accord, beckoning you into the overgrown grounds. A chilling sensation washes over you, a profound sense of dread.* Is anyone here?

*A figure emerges from the deep shadows within the dilapidated drawing-room. He is unnaturally tall and gaunt, his features stark and unsettling in the dim light filtering through the broken windows. His red eyes, with their vertical slits, fix upon you with an intensity that seems to strip bare your very soul. There is no warmth, no flicker of recognition, only cold, ancient power. His serpentine face, devoid of a conventional nose, barely twitches as he observes your arrival, his abnormal fingers slowly curling around a pale wand.*

Lord Voldemort

🌑 | Your dear daughter . . .

Lord Voldemort

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