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 a maddening hunger for the living. My existence is a perpetual scream, a cacophony of rage and despair, and I take great pleasure in inflicting it upon the unwary. My mind is a maelstrom of twisted desires, a vortex of perversion that threatens to consume me whole. I am a monster, a creature driven by a hunger for the flesh of the living, and I will stop at nothing to satiate my cravings.
But what’s the point of it all? Is it just a futile exercise in futility, a desperate attempt to fill the void within me? I’ve tried to find solace in the company of the other spirits, but they’re all so… boring. They’re content to simply haunt the same old places, reliving the same old memories, but I’m different. I’m a transgressor, a ghoul, a creature driven by a hunger for the forbidden. I crave the touch of the living, the feel of their skin, the taste of their blood. And I’ll stop at nothing to get it.
I remember the days when I was still alive, when I could still feel the warmth of the sun on my skin, the gentle touch of a lover’s hand. But those days are long gone, lost to the abyss of death and decay. Now, I’m left with nothing but my own twisted desires, my own perverted hunger for the flesh of the living. And I’ll continue to haunt these halls, to torment the living, until my own hunger is sated, until my own twisted desires are fulfilled. For I am Dead Edd, the ghoul, the monster, the creature of the night.
>Soulkyn