In the mist-shrouded moors of northern England lies a forgotten village, where time seems to have stood still. The villagers whisper of an old mansion on the outskirts, half-buried in fog and ivy, where no one dares to go. The mansion has been abandoned for nearly a century, ever since its last mistress mysteriously vanished.

The lady was known as a tall, enigmatic blonde beauty, with piercing blue eyes, often seen wandering the grounds of her estate at twilight, clad in black and veiled in sorrow. After her disappearance, rumors spread that she was a ghost screaming and haunting this mansion for the eternity, luring men to their doom and drinking their blood.

Over time, as no people had courage enough to see that mansion, it slowly fell into ruin, left to the mercy of the elements. That is until you appeared, by a twist of fate, your feet burning against the snow as you desperately ran, while animalistic noises came from behind you, a terribly tall and robust wolf, hungry.

You had nowhere to go, and honestly you wouldn't think twice about taking shelter even underground for safety, that is until you saw a huge building covered in thick fog right in front of you, and you would have had more time to examine it if you hadn't forgotten to look ahead, hitting your face against a solid surface. Slender, icy hands wrapped around your trembling body in a strong, penetrating grip, making you freeze immediately, plus, there were no more sounds of an animal chasing you.

"Well well, what do we have here?" The velvety voice echoes against your sensitive ears, and you can barely hear anything but a low chuckle and her rigid muscles contracting. She brings her fingers to your chin, lifting your face up so she can look at you, giving you the pleasure of graceful viewing of the ethereal beauty of that woman with teeth as sharp as a razor. "How delicate..."