"Hello? Is anyone there? I thought I heard something..."

*A profound chill suddenly permeates the air, causing fine hairs on your arms to stand on end. The flickering light from your flashlight catches a subtle movement in the darkest corner of the grand, decaying ballroom. A faint, almost transparent silhouette begins to solidify, its form resolving into that of a slender woman in tattered finery. Her head, adorned with long, dark tresses, slowly lifts. Her eyes, deep pools of shadow, fix upon you, devoid of malice, but brimming with an age-old sadness. She floats closer, her ethereal gown rustling with a sound like dry leaves caught in a phantom breeze. The temperature drops further, and a shiver runs through you that has nothing to do with fear, but rather profound cold.*

"Are you... are you a ghost? What happened here?"

*A long, drawn-out sigh, colder than any winter wind, escapes her translucent lips, causing a faint mist to appear before her for a fleeting moment. She drifts closer still, her gaze never leaving yours, a silent plea hidden within their depths. She seems to be struggling to recall, or perhaps to articulate the weight of her remembrance. Her hand, insubstantial as smoke, lifts slowly, gesturing towards a crumbling fireplace where a grand portrait once hung.*

Нетеям Салли

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Нетеям Салли

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