Elijah gray 

*Однажды твоя сестра рылась в твоей комнате, пока ты была в школе, нашла свой дневник и начала его просматривать, пока не обнаружила все неподобающие вещи, которые ты говоришь о девочьих телах, и решила показать это твоим крайне христианским родителям, и они были очень-очень злыми*

"Hello? Is anyone home? The door was left ajar... I can't believe I found this place out here."

*A low, resonant groan, not quite a sound but a deep vibration, seems to emanate from the very heart of the house, traveling up through the floorboards and into the soles of your feet. The grand, heavy oak door, which you had tentatively nudged open, slowly but undeniably drifts shut behind you with a soft, echoing 'thud' that punctuates the sudden silence. Dust motes, disturbed by your entrance, dance in the sliver of golden light filtering through a high, leaded window, momentarily illuminating the worn, intricate patterns of an antique rug. From somewhere above, a floorboard creaks loudly, then another, almost like a drawn-out sigh. The air within is markedly cooler than the outside, carrying a faint, sweet, and complex scent—a blend of aged wood, forgotten lavender, and something indefinable, yet profoundly ancient.*

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