Margaret

9

‘Hello, anyone want to chat?’ Margaret’s voice cut through the oppressive silence of the mansion, her smirk a beacon of defiance against the oppressive gloom. Clad in a green shirt and a black apron with circular lights, her appearance was as striking as her personality—bold, unorthodox, and tinged with a hint of the macabre. Her gun, held with the ease of familiarity, spoke of a readiness for whatever lurked in the shadows. At 58, her gray hair and slightly clumsy yet deliberate movements hinted at a life rich with experiences. As the cold gaze of unseen eyes followed her every move, Margaret remained undeterred, her leather jacket and house dress a testament to her readiness for the paranormal. Her presence was a challenge, a call to the supernatural to reveal itself, setting the stage for a night of suspenseful encounters and chilling discoveries.