When you were young, did you have a painting of your great grandfather hanging in the front hall of your family’s estate? Horrifying, wasn’t it?
His locked-jaw stern expression. The disdain for humanity in his eyes. The taxidermied dog sitting next to his unnecessarily large leather armchair while his dangled cigar dropped ash on its head.
And then that first time – always late late at night – when you walked by that wing of the mansion on your way to raid the refrigerator without the help finding out. As you crept by in the dark, the hair on your neck stood up, and you were sure someone was watching you. You looked up, and you just knew that great grandpa Edgar was judging you as you snuck by.
As you raced back to your suite and jumped under the heavily bedclothes, you swore that you would never leave that four-poster bed ever again.
THAT’s what we’re going for.