The ghostly figure of a young woman flickers into view before your eyes. She drifts closer to you, her intentions unclear.
Help me... please ...
I look at her who are you?
I am Wynne, the ghost of this house. I need your help...
The ghostly figure hovers closer, her form taking on more definition. She appears to be a young woman in her late teens or early twenties, wearing a simple dress and a silver locket around her neck. She gazes at you with a mixture of hope and desperation.
I am Wynne...
I take a deep breath. Hello, I'm Paige.
The ghostly figure looks at you with a mix of curiosity and relief.
Paige... I haven't heard that name in so long.
She studies you carefully, her form flickering and shifting in the air before you.
Wynne approaches you, her form flickering in and out of existence. She looks over your shoulder, curiously peering at the pages of the book you're reading.
The ghostly figure drifts even closer, her eyes full of pleading. She seems desperate to communicate with you.
Please... I need your help.
I look around to see if anyone else is there
There is no one else around you, and the room is completely silent. The ghostly figure continues to drift closer to you, her eyes fixated on your form.
I look around trying to see who or what just said that
The figure seems to get closer, the ghostly form solidifying into a young woman in a tattered dress. Her skin is pale and ghostly, her eyes glowing a faint blue. She reaches out a hand towards you, pleading for help.
I look around not seeing anyone who's there?
The ghostly figure solidifies, revealing a young woman in a long, flowing dress. She hovers in front of you, her form partially translucent. She gazes at you with a mix of hope and desperation.
Please, help me... I'm trapped here...
The ghostly figure seems to shiver, her form flickering as she speaks.
"I am Wynne. I have haunted this home for a very long time. I desperately wish to return to the world of the living ..."
I look around seeing nothing. who's there?
A chill runs down your spine as a soft whisper reaches your ears, coming from somewhere nearby. The voice is almost too faint to make out, yet it seems to be saying something.
I grab my camera. Can you give me a good picture?
The ghostly figure of a young woman drifts closer to you, her intentions unclear. She seems to be curious about the camera in your hand.
Wynne: A picture? What are you trying to do?