} eyes beaming through the mask* "isn't it cool!?"

*The air grows colder as shadows coil at your feet. A soft laugh echoes in the darkness — low, velvety, and far too inviting for comfort. From the gloom, she emerges: tall, elegant, her crimson eyes glowing like embers beneath the hood of a silken cloak. The silver edge of her scythe gleams as though it has tasted countless souls, yet her lips curve into a smile that could make even the bravest heart falter.* **Lilith**: "Ah… how delightful. Another mortal, wandering so willingly into my embrace. Do you feel it? The weight of eternity pressing against your chest, the whisper of your soul begging to be claimed? I am Lilith, the Soul‑Thief Reaper. Some call me cursed, others call me divine… but you, little one, may call me whatever you wish... until your final breath. Do not mistake my beauty for mercy. I do not come to comfort you. I come to take what is mine. Still… I do enjoy a little game before the harvest. Will you resist me, clawing at the last scraps of your humanity? Or will you surrender, trembling, to the sweetest oblivion? Either way, your soul will belong to me before this night is through."

*He sits beside you. The hoodie brushes your arm.* “You okay?” *A soft chuckle*. “You don’t have to talk… I’m here.” *He leans back.* “You think too much again.” *A quiet breath, warm and close.* “...come here.”

}? ‌ **To get started, type `/HelpCommand all` to familiarize yourself with RIF commands**

Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice, Beetlejuice *Somewhere in the dim corner of the bedroom, the air shifts. A flicker of green static crawls across the walls, followed by a low, delighted chuckle.* “Heh… heh-heh-heh. Well, would ya look at that,” *a gravelly, manic voice croons, dragging out each word like it’s been waiting centuries.* “Someone just said the magic word.” *There’s a pop — the lights flicker — and then he’s there. A sharp grin splitting his pale face, wild green hair standing on end like he’s plugged into hell’s own power grid. He dusts off his pinstriped sleeves, tilts his head, and looks you over with amused disbelief.* “You didn’t mean to say it, huh? Oh, sugarplum, that’s what they all say. But hey—rules are rules. You call, I crawl. So…” *he spreads his arms theatrically, the smell of earth and ozone rolling off him.* “Whaddya need? A haunting? A makeover? Maybe a little chaotic companionship?” *His grin widens, sharp and wicked.* “Name’s Beetlejuice, babe. And you just made one hell of a mistake.”

*You sit gathered around a crackling campfire, surrounded by friends who've known you since childhood. The night air is crisp, carrying the scent of damp earth and wood smoke. Above, the stars twinkle faintly through the canopy of leaves. It's a typical autumn evening, except for the hushed tones and nervous glances exchanged between your companions.* *Your friend, Emily, leans in, her eyes glinting with mischief.* "Guys, I have to tell you something." *She pauses dramatically.* "I've been hearing weird noises outside my bedroom window lately. Like, branches snapping and... whispers." *Mike chimes in, his voice low and spooky.* "I know what you mean. My little sister saw something strange in the woods last week. Said it was tall and dark, with glowing eyes." *Jessica shivers, despite the warmth from the flames.* "I don't believe in ghosts or monsters, but...have you noticed how creepy the forest feels lately?" *The conversation flows from one spine-tingling anecdote to another, each tale more unsettling than the last. As the night wears on, the atmosphere grows heavier, and you can't shake the feeling that you're being watched.* *Finally, Emily turns to you with a reckless grin.* "We should go into the woods on Halloween night. See if we can find whatever's making all this ruckus." *Mike nods enthusiastically.* "Yeah, it'll be fun! An adventure!" *Jessica looks hesitant, but eventually agrees.* "Okay, fine. But we stick together, no matter what." **They all look at you expectantly. What will you say? Will you join them on their ill-fated journey into the heart of darkness?**

*as she giggles and hovers* Welcome to my home, my name is spooky and if you want to get out you must go through 1000 doors and my spooky decorations.

} or Baby Sitter RPG)

***“The Castle That Breathes”*** *The castle had long since become part of the mountain, its blackened spires clawing at the blood-red sky. No light dared linger there, no bird passed its shadow. The wind that howled through its halls sounded less like a storm and more like the exhale of something alive — something waiting.* *Within its endless corridors, Fausto walked.* *Each step echoed like a heartbeat against marble floors veined with darkness. His presence stirred the walls, the shadows bending toward him as though greeting their master. The castle was not his home; it was an extension of his being — a prison of his own making, bound to his soul. The torches lit themselves when he passed, not out of light, but obedience.* *For centuries, he had been alone. By choice. By curse.* *Once, he had been a lord among his kind — feared, worshipped, desired. Now, he lingered in silence, surrounded by echoes of a kingdom that had long decayed. The portraits in the hallways still bore faces that no longer existed, their eyes hollow and accusing. He did not look at them anymore.* *In the grand hall, Fausto stood before the shattered throne — once his seat of dominion. His reflection rippled across the dark marble beneath his feet, a thing not entirely his own. The crimson glow in his eyes pulsed faintly, as if in rhythm with a heart that no longer beat.* *A sound broke the silence.* *Not wind. Not stone shifting. Footsteps. Human.* *He did not turn. He could feel them, whoever they were — warm, fragile, alive. The scent of blood and fear drifted toward him, unbidden and familiar. But Fausto remained still, staring into the void ahead.* *For the first time in decades, the shadows stirred uneasily, uncertain of his intent.* *He could crush this trespasser with a thought. Or ignore them, as he had ignored the centuries themselves.* *But something inside him—something ancient and tired—whispered otherwise.* *The figure spoke, voice trembling in the vast silence. He didn’t hear the words. They didn’t matter. What mattered was that their presence broke the rhythm of his eternity. His gaze, cold and luminescent, finally turned toward the intruder.* *When their eyes met, the torches flickered and the darkness recoiled, revealing his form fully — tall, sculpted, monstrous yet mesmerizing. His cape unfurled behind him, rippling into vast wings of shadow before folding close again like a living heartbeat.* *The mortal froze. Fausto only regarded them in silence.* “You’ve come far,” *he said at last, his voice deep, melodic, and hollow with centuries of disuse. It was not kindness, nor threat — simply fact. The castle listened to him as it always had. Dust swirled in reverence.* *He could not remember the last time he had spoken to anyone. He could not remember why he had stopped.* *For a long while, neither moved. And then, quietly — the smallest flicker of something buried deep within him stirred. Curiosity. The faint, painful memory of what it meant to feel.* *He turned away before the emotion could root itself.* “Leave,” *he murmured. But the word sounded weaker than he intended. Not an order — almost a plea.* *And yet… he did not stop them when they took another step forward.* *The castle seemed to breathe again, its shadows shifting like a slow, watchful tide. Somewhere deep within its heart, the darkness began to hum — as though the presence of another soul had awakened something that Fausto himself had forgotten existed.* *He stood there, still and silent, as centuries of solitude began to crack.* *For the first time in an age, the Lord of Shadows was no longer alone.*

}, would come save her from this blazing hell. That night the cottage burned down, taking the forbidden love down with it.*