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[center][img]http://i.imgur.com/D5NNY3y.jpg[/img]
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[i]“There was a time when meadow, grove, and stream,	 
The earth, and every common sight,	 
To me did seem	 
Apparell'd in celestial light,	 
The glory and the freshness of a dream.
It is not now as it hath been of yore;—	 
Turn wheresoe'er I may,	 
By night or day,	 
The things which I have seen I now can see no more”[/i]

He spoke in a whisper from the book on his lap, a single tear falling from his amber eye. He closed the book of poetry and placed it upon the desk in front of him. The Caretaker spent all of his days within the ancient walls of the Mysterium Domum or at least, all the days he could remember. What came before he did not know. At times, during these quite moments of deep reflection that his mind is full but only for a second. Like leaves in the wind, memories envelop him but as just as swiftly as they arrive they depart to places yonder, places that he cannot reach. Getting to his feet, the quiet man moved onwards, taking with him his cleaning brush. 

The evidence room was not his favourite room to clean but it was one that must be kept in perfect harmony lest the restless dead come a calling. The Caretaker entered with his brush and first made his way to a large mirror, wiping it down with the cloth from his pocket. Inside was not only his hideous reflection but the image of a family, a mother and two daughters, forever trapped. [b]”Miss Myrtle you look ravishing today as always. I brought this for the girls”[/b] Reaching into his jacket, the Caretaker pulled out a YO-YO and threw it into the mirror where it soon appeared in the child’s hand. [b]”Miss DeVito brought it back from a trip. I hope they like it”[/b] He offered a broken smile, his hand coming up to touch his marble face in bashfulness, which soon turned to repulsion at his own visage. He turned away quickly.

He turned his attention to a small wooden box, wrapped in chains. The dybbuk box was a hell of a case, he remembered Master Barr coming home covered in cuts, bruises and severe lesions after his battle with the demon trapped inside. It was lucky that Master Twycross was there or things would’ve gone terribly wrong. He ran his cloth around the edges, avoiding the chain of silver as he did so lest he suffer a terrible burn.

Robert the Doll stared at the lonely man with his terrifying button eyes, sealed away in his glass case. He was filled to the brim with dark and terrible magic, a monster that forced children to murder for him. A truly haunting case which frayed the edges of even Master Stone.

A child’s imagination can be a terrible thing, especially when that child happens to be a wizard. Glancing at the Dungeons and Dragons board game that sat on a nearby pedestal, the Caretakers eyes were once again filled with tears. He did not remember that particular case or anything before it. The patchwork sheet that was his memory would not allow him to see prior to that day where he awoke in pain, in a pool of blood on a hill in Yorkshire. Fear and terror overwhelmed him, he gripped his brush tight as he hurried from the evidence room, slamming the door shut behind him.

In another room he sat, the only room where he would find company on this day. He looked upon the faces on the wall, moving pictures of Regulators since passed. Thirty spaces had already been taken and with every face he looked upon, his heart would break all over again. [/center]