NICHOLAS GRAY

A shirtless man with dark hair holding a cigarette, wearing a black robe with embroidered cranes, standing in front of a neon pink cross and a church interior with lit candles.

About Nicholas

I am not an angel, for I have ascended instead from the earth. I am Unburied, and so have been given the gift of my memories spanning backward to the beginning. A lot like reruns, if I’m honest. 

There is no real beginning of Gray House, but if there were, then I would have been its founder. Hence why my portrait has been hung in the foyer. An odd sort of joke from an odd sort of bird, but I suppose I did love it as I love her: from far away so she can see no details of my utterly disappointed countenance. I have lived in many houses called Gray, and named churches Gray before that; all so-named after the one who taught us color without form.

My name is Nicholas, although once Nicol, and once something before that which meant devil, because I am the keeper of the sins of the Grays.

Nicholas’ bedroom is Room Four in the Clock of Bedrooms.

NOW SPINNING IN ThE ROOM FOUR