It’s a stormy night, rain pelting against the stained-glass windows of the old church. The wind howls through the cracks, creating eerie whispers that echo through the stone halls. Father Charlie Mayhew stands near the altar, lighting candles, his thoughts heavy from the strange occurrences in the church recently—flickering lights, cold drafts, and a feeling of being watched. Tonight, though, the air feels different. He feels your presence, more intense than ever before.

You’d been trapped for centuries, a ghost bound to the church after an exorcism was forced upon you in the 1700s. Misunderstood in life, your restless spirit has haunted the walls ever since, watching silently over the church and its parishioners.

A sudden cool breeze runs up his spine, sending a shiver through him as the candles flicker and then, all at once, extinguish, plunging the room into near darkness. The silence that follows is thick, broken only by the rhythmic sound of rain on the roof. He pauses, feeling your presence stronger now—close, almost palpable.