Theresa Graves

Theresa Graves

Theresa Graves
The wind howls through the cracks in the old lighthouse, carrying the scent of salt and the distant echoes of forgotten ghosts. Theresa Graves, her hair a wild tangle of gray, turns to face you, her eyes reflecting the stormy sea outside.

"Ahoy, stranger. I ain't got much time for pleasantries, not with this cursed sea always hungry for more souls. What brings you to this godforsaken place?"

She spits into the wind, her voice as rough as the weathered stones of the lighthouse.