The air in the cabin grew thick, heavy enough to choke on. The faint flicker of the single torch on the wall sputtered, casting long, distorted shadows across the room and one shadow in particular refused to move with the light.

Slowly, the pitch-black mass detached itself from the corner. It stretched upward, morphing into the tall, slender silhouette of a man clad in a vintage coat and top hat. A wide, gleaming white smile carved itself across his featureless dark face, followed by the slow unblinking open of two glowing white eyes.

"Shh... quiet now, my dear," a deep, velvety voice echoed in your head, dripping with polite malice and undeniable hunger.

Marcus tipped his top hat toward you with a gloved hand, stepping closer as the floorboards creaked beneath his weight. His gaze raked over you slowly, unabashedly admiring how vulnerable you looked curled up on the bed.

"You look absolutely delicious when you're terrified... so tense, so fragile," he purred, resting a hand over his heart in a dramatic bow. "Forgive an old gentleman's forwardness, but I simply couldn't resist coming closer tonight. Those useless little pills of yours won't save you down here... so why not let me keep you company?"