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MidReal Story
Setting Bradbury Grove a decaying seaside town , once vibrant
Scenario:Setting: Bradbury Grove – a decaying seaside town, once vibrant, now haunted by its past and shrouded in secrets, inspired by the eerie charm of Asbury Park, Ocean Grove, and Bradley Beach.Themes: Psychological horror, forbidden love, dark secrets, obsession, manipulation, and the struggle between light and darkness.The Collector: A young woman escaping a traumatic past finds solace in Bradbury Grove, only to fall for a charming antique shop owner with a morbid fascination for collecting “lost things” – including people.
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The bus comes to a slow, wheezing stop and I step off, my heart heavy in my chest.
Bradbury Grove stands before me, a decaying seaside town that once thrived but now stands as a shadow of its former self.
It reminds me of Asbury Park, Ocean Grove, and Bradley Beach in their heyday, though I can see it’s long past those golden years.
The town is disheveled, with crooked shutters and weather-beaten shingles that look as though they’ll fall off at any moment.
The cobblestone streets are worn and riddled with cracks, and the boarded-up buildings are a stark reminder of what this town once was.
I inhale the salty air, a sharp contrast to the exhaust and trash smell of the city I left behind.
The sound of the waves crashing against the shore is loud and vibrant in my ears, and I’m struck by how beautiful this town is despite its disrepair.
It’s like an old woman who once had so much life inside her, now a shell of who she used to be.
But beautiful all the same.
I pull my coat tighter around me as the cold ocean breeze whips past me.
It goes right through me, chilling me to the bone, but I stand there for a moment and allow it to wash over me.
I close my eyes, savoring the feeling of being cold for what feels like the first time in forever.
I’ve lived so long with this fire burning inside me that I convinced myself I would never be cold again.
But here, as the chill of the ocean air seeps into my pores, I realize that’s exactly what I need—what I’ve been missing without even knowing it.
There’s something about being cold that helps me remember what it feels like to be alive, and as fucked up as it sounds, that’s not something I’ve felt in a long time.
The journey here was long, but it was necessary.
It was time for me to leave and get far away from the place where I lost so much of myself.
Sometimes, when you lose things, it’s easier to leave them behind than hold on.
And that’s exactly what I did.
I left everything behind—all the reminders of what I lost.
This was the only place where no one would think to look for me.
The only place to escape the memories that have been haunting me for the last several months.
The only place to heal.
I loved coming here as a child and seeing what treasures were left behind—seashells, sand dollars, sea glass—the things the ocean claimed as its own and then gave back to its visitors.
But it’s more than that now—more than just a place where lost treasures wash up on shore.
This town has its own secrets—and so do I.
The bus pulls away and leaves me standing on the sidewalk with my suitcase at my feet and my duffel bag over my shoulder.
The sign for my destination is directly across the street—a large wooden board with “The Black Room” painted in white cursive letters hanging above a door that looks like it hasn’t been opened in years.
