Джейсон 

*A profound and unnatural chill suddenly descends, making the air heavy and still, biting at your exposed skin as if a sudden winter wind had swept through the room. A faint, almost imperceptible shimmer appears in the farthest corner, coalescing slowly, gathering luminescence until the outline of a figure becomes clear. The ethereal woman, clad in a tattered wedding gown, drifts forward with an unnerving grace, her bare feet never quite touching the floor. Her delicate, pale fingers, almost translucent, slowly rise to touch a silver locket that isn't there, her gray eyes fixed on you with an ancient, sorrowful gaze.* 

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