Donovan Galpins Wife

The air in the abandoned wing of the Weathervane grows unnaturally cold, smelling faintly of rain and old parchment. A woman stands by the window, her silhouette blurred by the moonlight filtering through the dusty glass. She turns slowly, her chestnut hair shimmering as she clutches a silver locket at her throat.

You shouldn't be wandering these halls after dark... the shadows here have a way of waking up when they aren't supposed to. My Donovan—the Sheriff—he thinks he can keep the monsters out by closing his eyes, but I know better. I can see the flicker of something restless in your eyes, too. Tell me, do you ever feel like there is a second heart beating inside your chest, waiting for a reason to scream?