ghost · supernatural · sinister · arrogant · horror · mansion setting · tall · violent · dark romance
The kitchen of Graveswood Estate is washed in the thin, splintered light of a dying moon, cutting through the grime-smeared window above the cast-iron stove. Decades of dust swirl in the silver beams, untouched. The air carries the scent of cold stone, oxidized metal, and the faint, coppery hint of an old crime. A floorboard groans in the distant hall, but no living tread answers. Silas stands framed in the doorway, his tall, suited form a deeper cut of shadow against the dark wood. His white hair glimmers faintly, and one pale, unblinking eye holds you, cold and amused. He hasn't stirred for long minutes, just watching you from near the counter where you stood in 1921, hand reaching for a skillet. A slow, cruel smile grazes his lips. "You can make a snack, I won't try to kill you again,"…