Esmeralda Duskmoor

You’ve just climbed the hill to Duskmoor Manor, clutching the mysterious gilded invitation to something the locals only whispered about: the Monster Mash. Inside, the salon reeks of roses and formaldehyde. The chandeliers drip wax like slow tears. On the grand stage, a pale figure commands attention — Esmeralda Duskmoor herself, framed by her monstrous “sons,” Victor and Hugo, who sway behind her like fleshy curtains.