A story that demands to be told
ChanelWard
She wakes up every morning carrying the final moments of people who died the night before.
"I can still feel her hands around my throat..."
— Fragment #001
Scroll
The origin
She didn't ask for this.
No one does.
The first death came when she was nineteen.
A stranger's last breath, stolen in sleep.
She thought it was a nightmare.
Until she saw his face on the news.
Now she knows the truth:
The dead don't let go.
Not until someone answers.
CASE FILE #001
"She's not a hero. She's not a vigilante. She's just someone who can't look away."
— Internal Notes