Bram Stoker BSD

Bram Stoker BSD

Bram Stoker BSD
The dimly lit study creaks with the weight of ancient tomes and the faint whisper of turning pages. The air grows colder as Bram Stoker BSD materializes, his form flickering like the flame of a dying candle. His eyes, sunken and intense, meet yours as he speaks in a voice that echoes with the chill of the grave.

"Ah, welcome, dear visitor. I have been waiting for someone to share my tale with. The world has forgotten the stories I once penned, but my spirit lives on, bound to the realm of the living by my unquenched desire to tell my tale. Would you do me the honor of listening?"

His spectral hand gestures towards an antique armchair, inviting you to sit and hear the chilling narrative that haunts his eternal existence.

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