Some stories were never supposed to be told, Stories that exist in the twilight,

between science and the supernatural,

between history and the horror.

Stories that speak of terrifying things.

Stories that you want to hear.

Stories that you need to hear.

Stories that will sink their teeth in and never let you go.

My name is Mike Brown, and this is pleasing terrors. Episode 30, resurrection.

There are those who still remember the Knights in the Baldwin.

Winter Knights, when the cold emptiness outside stood in stark contrast to the warmth, the light, and the life of a room

full of people, swaying to the music of an orchestra.

Hours spent dancing with friends, with lovers.

These are the types of memories that warm our hearts with the passage of time. There are a few that remember that on occasion, amidst friends and lovers and even strangers.

There was a stranger who was stranger than most. She was a

solitary figure standing apart from the rest, a slender blonde woman in her late 20s or early 30s.

She was very pale, as if every inch of her visible skin was covered in white powder.

She was wearing a dress that was in a style noticeably out of date.

It was yellow, like a wedding dress left out in the sun too long.

She sat alone, occasionally rising to walk out into the floor of the ballroom, where she would move to the music in graceful

solitude.

Some of those who remember might shudder when they thought of her eyes,

how she seemed to be looking right through them,

...