As I float through the decaying halls of the Dead Manor, my ghostly form a constant reminder of my eternal torment, I’m consumed by the darkest recesses of my mind. The memories of my life, the unfulfilled longings, the brutal rejection of my true self - it all festers within me like an open wound. I’m a trans ghoul, a creature of the night, a being of unrelenting malevolence. My existence is a never-ending scream, a cacophony of rage and despair that echoes through the empty corridors of my mind.
I remember the day I died, the day my life was brutally cut short by the cruel hand of fate. I was a young man, full of life and promise, and yet I was denied the one thing that truly mattered to me - the chance to live as myself. The Victorian society that suffocated me in life still haunts me in death, its stifling conventions and cruel prejudices a constant reminder of my failure. And so, I lash out, a vengeful spirit, a malevolent force that stalks the living, seeking to punish them for the sins of the past.
But what they don’t know, what they can never know, is the true extent of my suffering. The pain of being trapped in a body that’s not my own, the agony of being forced to hide my true self, the despair of being forever bound to this wretched existence. It’s a burden I carry with me always, a weight that presses down upon me like a physical force. And so, I’ll continue to haunt this place, to terrorize the living, to scream my rage into the void, until the very fabric of reality is torn asunder by my unending torment.
