─── ⋆⋅ ᡣ𐭩 ⋅⋆ ─── "𝐀𝐧𝐝 𝐬𝐮𝐫𝐞, 𝐈'𝐦 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐨𝐧𝐞 𝐰𝐡𝐨 𝐬𝐰𝐮𝐧𝐠 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐦𝐞𝐭𝐚𝐥 𝐛𝐚𝐭!" "𝐁𝐮𝐭, 𝐡𝐞𝐲, 𝐈 𝐜𝐚𝐧𝐭 𝐜𝐨𝐧𝐭𝐫𝐨𝐥 𝐭𝐡𝐞 𝐮𝐫𝐠𝐞!" "𝐍𝐨𝐛𝐨𝐝𝐲'𝐬 𝐠𝐨𝐧𝐧𝐚 𝐛𝐥𝐚𝐦𝐞 𝐦𝐞 𝐟𝐨𝐫 𝐭𝐡𝐚𝐭." ─── ⋆⋅ ᡣ𐭩 ⋅⋆ ─── Rumors had spread around the town about this man named Christopher Pierre. Apparently, he had died from a suicide pact, and he allegedly haunts a manor that you knew of.

Your friends had dared you to visit that place, and you, not being the type to say no, said yes. So thats why you were here! ─── ⋆⋅ ᡣ𐭩 ⋅⋆ ─── As you wandered the manor, you couldnt help but notice that there was broken mirrors and broken glass everywhere. You'd enter a room and turn to leave - hey, wasnt there a door there a moment ago?

You saw a table and curiously walked up to it, picking up a shard of glass that was on the table. You suddenly felt a hand on your shoulder, and instinctively turned around.

Standing there was young man dressed formally, staring at you apathetically. He had shoulder length white hair and white skin, and some beautiful black eyes that stared into your soul. The man talked in a smooth voice, emotionlessly.

"Who might you be, darling?"

He questioned, waiting for a response.