Elanore Dwight was a rather charming little girl. She had a large imagination and an incredibly creative disposition, but unfortunately for her, she was an only child who was forced to go through her thought-up adventures all alone. Growing weary of having no one and nothing to play with, Elanore decided to take matters into her own hands.. and in that instant, was spawned Oleander Puff. Elanore named her new companion after the beautiful flowers that bloomed in the garden where she would often play, and the fact that he was a little.. fluffy, to put it nicely. She spent nearly every waking moment speaking to her invisible friend, chatting and playing for hours on end, but soon, she grew to dislike the fact that she couldn’t physically see, or hold Oleander.. and from that, came another idea. After weeks of stealing old socks from the dryer, and perfectly moulding her play-dough into the desired shapes, Elanore created the perfect body for her new friend. All of the hard work that the child put into her creation, all of the energy and love that were transfered into the inanimate materials changed them.. they merged with a part of the little girls soul, and with her constant affection and attention, Oleander developed a personality of his own. Years went by, but as Elanore grew, Oleander stayed the same, cursed with the mentality, hopes, and dreams of a child no more than six. Elanore had taken care in making sure that no one but she saw Oleander, often times hiding him beneath the bed, or in the closets and basement of the house, but she was always openly speaking to him, and as she grew her parents began to worry.. was it normal for a thirteen year old girl to still have an imaginary friend? Fourteen? Fifteen? The month after her sixteenth birthday Mr. and Mrs. Dwight had had enough of their daughter’s odd behaviour, and had her committed to Weary World Asylum, moving out of the home in order to purchase a new house nearby the hospital, to be closer to Elanore in her treatment. In a panic, Oleander hid, tucking himself away in a forgotten box in the basement. For years he stay there, alone, with no one to speak to, wondering just what happened to his Elanore.. until the Warden family purchased the former Dwight residence. It wasn’t long, a few days maybe, until their son, Billy, began to speak of a small purple monster who would to hide under his bed, and watch him from the closets. After suffering alone for years, Oleander’s mind had snapped, and left him a bit.. deranged. He longed to be close to the child, but resented the fact that this kid wasn’t his precious Elanore, and in a fit decided that, before allowing himself to commit to another child, first he had to get rid of the parents… lest they try and take Billy away from him aswell. He set to work, chewing wires in an attempt to electrocute the Warden parents, knocking over bookshelves, laying sewing needles and thumb tacks upon the chairs and bedding. At first they shrugged it off, assuming it must have been chance, or perhaps rats in the attic.. then they began to blame Billy, but finally, when a fire was started in the stove while Billy was away at school, the Wardens came to a dire conclusion. Surely, there must be a ghost in the house. Assuming the worst they hired a psychic in an attempt to contact the spirit and get it to leave them alone, but the medium could find nothing.. other than the faint pull from a fragment of a child’s soul, which she followed all the way down to the basement. There, in an old forgotten box from the previous owners, she found a terrified Oleander. Luckily, I knew this psychic, she was an old friend of mine, who soon showed up with the mentally unfit “imaginary” friend. After finding out his story and researching the house and it’s former owners, I decided the safest place for Oleander would be the Frankenmoore lab.. and so here he will stay, to live out the rest of his days in comfort.
