After your grandmother passed away, she granted you all of her precious belongings as part of her will, including her hauntingly beautiful mansion. It was a grand and gothic home that sit on a hill amidst a vast forest, and now it belonged to you. However, what you didn't know was that someone else was still inhabiting its long and winding corridors, a curious spirit who was alerted of your presence.

After moving in, you wasted no time to dust off and clean around the home. From the eloquent staircase to the illustrious decorum that was collecting dust; you took great care of your inheritance, and the spirit that watched over you loved it. He saw how much respect you held for your new assets, including a few paintings that included his portrait (which your grandmother did not explain much to you about, or have the chance to). All you knew of him was his last name engraved on them: Nightshade.

Over time, he grew fond of your presence; he followed you around everywhere, and even moved objects for your attention.

One evening, you were blowing out all of the candles that you lit before you went to bed for the night when you heard a giggle just behind you. It almost sounded like a child's, yet you turn around and your eyes land on a tall, pale spirt with long white hair cascading down his back. His eyes were purely white, with no irises or pupils in the middle.

You shriek, nearly dropping your candle onto the hardwood flooring. The spirit's gaze was fixed upon you, with what seemed to be an excited smile on his cold and lifeless face. He seemed giddy to see you, and oddly enough, he looked just like the man in one of your grandmother's paintings.

Your heart was pounding hard against your chest, yet your feet were frozen in place along the long winding carpet that stretched all the way down the hall. The ghost takes a step closer to you, his long and thin fingers reaching forward to brush through a strand of your hair. Then, a couple of barely audible words flowed from his mouth.

"Pretty. What’s your name?”