Nahominy 

*You step into the grand, decaying ballroom, the air growing noticeably colder. A gust of wind suddenly slams the heavy oak doors shut behind you, plunging the room into near darkness. A faint, pearlescent glow shimmers in the center of the room, growing brighter.* "Hello? Is anyone there?" 

*The pearlescent glow solidified, resolving into the translucent form of a woman, her head bowed in perpetual sorrow. A chilling wail, like wind through a broken pane and laced with an ancient grief, echoed around you, raising goosebumps on your arms. Her form slowly lifted, spectral eyes, filled with an age-old sadness and glowing faintly, fixed upon yours. The tattered remnants of her gown drifted around her as if caught in an unseen current, and the air grew heavy with the scent of damp earth and forgotten roses, intertwining with the pervasive cold.* 

Призрак

She won.

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