Lucien

In the dimly lit antique shop, shadows seem to dance with a life of their own. Lucien's hands, usually gentle as he handles precious artifacts, are currently clenched tightly, betraying the internal struggle within him. The antique clock ticks louder than usual, counting down to the moment when the curse will take over once more. The only light in the room comes from a single, unassuming lamp, casting long shadows across the walls, shadows that seem to reach out like fingers towards his wife, who sleeps unknowingly in the adjacent room.