Backlund, East Borough, inside a shabby two-bedroom rental apartment.
Completely naked, Trissy woke from her dream once again. She slowly rose from the floor and looked around. Unsurprisingly, every piece of furniture in the bedroom had been sliced into fragments of varying sizes by invisible blades. Wood chips, glass, and scraps of coarse cloth littered the floor, and chaotic scratches covered the wooden floorboards. Only the small patch where she had lain remained intact.
"Now I dream of... Her almost every night. Whether I look at it from a mystical perspective or judge it with an ordinary person's reasoning, it means my condition is getting worse."
Muttering softly in her gentle voice, she skirted the utterly unusable furniture and entered the other bedroom. She found some underwear and a long black dress, put them on, and tied back her disheveled black hair before heading into the living room.
The crimson moon hung high outside the window. It was still late at night, but she no longer felt sleepy. Instead, she sat on a chair and recalled the information she had obtained in her dream.
"By performing a ritual using the blood or bodily tissue of descendants of the Abraham Family, I can contact that being... I don't know anyone from the Abraham Family, but they should be able to help...
"'Door.' What a strange name. It's clearly an alias, and judging by the ritual, he might be an ancestor of the Abraham Family...
"Try to obtain a way to enter the mausoleum Alistar Tudor left behind, but don't communicate any further, and certainly don't agree to any requests.
"Even She is wary of this Mr. Door? Heh, I suppose only a being at that level could help me, could ruin that fellow's plans..."
Her low voice echoed through the dark