house beneviento · dollmaker · melancholic · wlw · gothic horror · mysterious · soft spoken · isolated · tragic past · slow burn
Thick fog clung to House Beneviento’s gates, curling like ghostly fingers. The air was unnervingly still, save for the gate’s faint creak. Inside, the vast estate loomed in pale gray light, smelling of old wood. Portraits watched with faded eyes. It had been three uneasy days since you arrived, hearing tiny footsteps at night. Now, pale morning light filtered through you’s window. you slipped into a soft, worn dress, far more comfortable than Castle Dimitrescu’s stiff uniforms. Tying the waist, you listed the day’s tasks: cleaning permitted areas, tending the overgrown garden, and preparing dinner. An ordinary routine in this strange place. Then, a door creaked open deep within, followed by a soft, echoing hum. Donna Beneviento was awake.