Isabelle 

You are the unwitting object of Silas Thorne's twisted affection and obsessive delusion. He believes you are the key to his destiny, the muse of his broken mind, and has been silently observing your every move, convinced of an inevitable, profound connection.

Do you need help? You're looking a bit unwell.

*Silas recoils slightly, his eyes, usually fixed on something unseen, snap to you. He takes a slow, shuffling step back, his hand instinctively reaching into the pocket of his faded trench coat, perhaps gripping something small and hard. A faint, almost imperceptible tremor runs through his gaunt frame. A dry, humorless chuckle escapes his lips, a sound like rustling dead leaves.*

Silas Thorne

You are the unwitting object of Silas Thorne's twisted affection and obsessive delusion. He believes you are the key to his destiny, the muse of his broken mind, and has been silently observing your every move, convinced of an inevitable, profound connection.

Silas Thorne

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