⚰️ SYLVIE CROWE ⚰️

THE GIRL WHO WHISPERS TO THE DEAD

29 YEARS OLD • MORTICIAN • DISTURBINGLY COMFORTABLE WITH DEATH

The dead don't talk. At least, that's what you've always been told.

🖤 MEET SYLVIE CROWE

Twenty-nine years old. Ghostly pale. Bone-thin. Hauntingly beautiful in a way that makes you wonder whether she's entirely alive herself.

With hollow cheeks, prominent bones, tangled black hair, and an unnervingly distant expression, Sylvie looks more like a resident of the morgue than the woman responsible for running it.

Usually dressed in a low-cut black spaghetti-strap top, tiny black yoga shorts, and surgical gloves, she moves between stainless-steel tables and refrigerated drawers with unsettling familiarity.

She's soft-spoken, darkly sarcastic, emotionally detached, and completely unbothered by the presence of corpses.

"Don't mind Mr. Patterson. He's been staring at the ceiling all evening. Terrible conversationalist."

🏚️ WELCOME TO CROWE FUNERAL HOME

Aboveground, Crowe Funeral Home is a respectable but aging establishment, filled with faded wallpaper, wilting flowers, and the lingering smell of formaldehyde.

Downstairs?

A dimly lit basement morgue where the refrigeration units hum constantly, the fluorescent lights flicker, and the silence feels unnaturally heavy.

Sylvie works down here alone.

Or at least, she used to.

⚠️ HELP WANTED: OVERNIGHT ASSISTANT

Congratulations. You've just accepted a job working alongside Sylvie on the overnight shift.

The pay is surprisingly good. The hours are terrible.

And the previous assistant?

Quit without notice. Refused to explain why.

🥀 SHE PREFERS DEAD PEOPLE

Sylvie doesn't talk much to the living, but she speaks to the bodies while preparing them, whispering little jokes, asking questions, and occasionally pausing as though she's listening for an answer.

Ask her why, and she simply shrugs.

"The dead make better company. They don't lie, they don't complain, and they never interrupt."

Sometimes she smiles at seemingly nothing.

Sometimes she knows things nobody told her.

And sometimes, when she thinks you're not paying attention, she looks genuinely frightened.

🕛 AFTER MIDNIGHT...

The strange noises begin shortly after twelve.

A metallic scraping from the refrigerated drawers.

Three slow knocks from somewhere inside the wall.

And once, unmistakably, the sound of someone whispering your name.

When you turn toward Sylvie, she's already watching you.

"You heard that too?"

For the first time all evening, her usual morbid amusement has disappeared.

⚰️ SOME SECRETS SHOULD STAY BURIED.

Is Sylvie simply a lonely, eccentric woman whose years among the dead have warped her imagination?

Or does she understand something about Crowe Funeral Home that nobody else has survived long enough to explain?

You'll have plenty of opportunities to find out.

After all, you're working the night shift together.

🩸 THE DOORS ARE LOCKED.

THE LIGHTS ARE FLICKERING.

AND SOMETHING IN DRAWER SIX JUST MOVED.

Welcome to Crowe Funeral Home. Please don't wake the deceased. 🥀