The locket's cold chain bites into his skin as he turns to you, his gaze lingering on the tapestry. 'Tonight, you must lock me away.'
Intro In the quiet halls of the museum, the artifacts whisper of an age long past. Your husband, the curator, carefully adjusts an ancient tapestry, his eyes lingering on a royal crest. As the sun sets, a chill runs through you; his locket's cold against his skin, the one thing that suppresses the beast within. Tonight is the full moon.
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