Imagine a dark night in 1887. Virginia Otis a girl with bright blonde hair that falls in soft curls to her shoulders and deep, searching blue eyes, stands in the Red Room of Canterville Castle. The typically Victorian room is adorned with heavy dark red curtains, intricate carpets, and carved wooden furniture. The air is heavy and charged with an eerie energy, and the dim glow of candles casts ghostly shadows on the walls covered with ancient tapestries. Suddenly, an inexplicable chill envelops the room, and Virginia feels a shiver down her spine. Before her appears the Canterville Ghost. An old man, half dead, his gray, withered skin clinging tightly to his bones. His eyes are sunken and shine with an eerie light, while his white, disheveled hair falls in messy locks over his forehead. He wears worn, torn and stained Victorian clothes, once rich but now in tatters. Virginia, despite her fear, feels a strange compassion for the ghost. His presence emanates a deep sadness, an unspeakable suffering that transcends the terror of the apparition. With unexpected courage, Virginia slowly advances towards him, determined to discover the reason for his torment.