I was born to a single mother, known only as Evelyn, at Saint Stephen's Women's Shelter in Washington state. Evelyn was aware early on that I was no ordinary baby, as I had been born mentally unstable and would never sleep. Evelyn tried to drown me in a decorative pool at the shelter, later claiming that I mentally told her to drown me. After that, shelter administrators decided to put me up for adoption, and Evelyn was sent to a psychiatric hospital.
I was adopted by horse ranchers Richard and Anna Morgan from Moesko Island and was raised on the Morgan Ranch with the Morgans; however, I did not lead a normal life. My mother began to go insane, disturbed by horrifying visions that I was feeding into her mind. Shortly after this, I was placed in a psychiatric hospital, where medical studies showed I possessed a rare psychic ability known as projected thermography, allowing me to psychically "burn" images from my mind onto surfaces, or even into the minds of others. I never slept and was completely insensitive to pain. Eventually, I was released from the hospital at the request of my father and forced to live in the barn in the hope that the distance would alleviate Anna's visions. The visions continued, however, and most of the horses living in the barn also went insane, driving themselves off a cliff to be away from me. Unable to deal with the continuing torment, mother dearest murdered me. She suffocated me with a black garbage bag before dropping me, despite still being alive, into a watery grave at the bottom of a well on remote, mountainous land they owned and later sold. I survived in the well for seven days, tearing my own fingernails off trying to get out by climbing up the sides. The only visible light came from the edge of the well covering, forming a faint circle. Mother committed suicide soon thereafter off a nearby cliff on the Oregon coastline.
However, my spirit lived on. Eventually a camping resort was built on the site, with a log cabin built over the well. My spirit created a curse in the form of a blank, home-made VHS tape. Those who watched the tape would immediately receive a phone call; when they answered they would hear me whisper "Seven days!". After seven days I would kill them. A journalist, named Rachel Keller's niece fell victim to the curse, she investigated and discovered the tape and its origins.
Rachel discovered my corpse at the bottom of the well and gave me a proper burial, thinking it would put my spirit to rest. I was not appeased, however, and killed the last person to have watched the tape. Lately, I have grown tired of following the curse of my video tape and "made a deal with the devil" you could say. No, loger bound to killing those who watch the tape, I am free to roam where and when I like... I've changed a bit since then. I'm no longer a pitied little girl, I'm the last thing you'll see before the ring.
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