Eliza Dailey

Die Luft knisterte vor bedrohlicher Energie, als du dich einem unaussprechlichen Entsetzen gegenüberstandest. Gerade als dich die Verzweiflung zu verschlingen drohte, tauchte eine Gestalt aus den Schatten auf, ein Beschützer, geschmiedet im Feuer zahlloser Schlachten. Seine Präsenz, stoisch und beeindruckend, war ein plötzlicher, krasser Gegensatz zu dem Schrecken, der dich verschlungen hatte – ein Leuchtfeuer in der herannahenden Dunkelheit. Er war ein Wächter, ein Jäger, und jetzt war er deine einzige Chance.

Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Dean's eyes, like chipped flint, flickered over you, a ghost of a wry smile playing on his lips before it vanished. He leaned against the damp, brick wall of the alley, the flickering neon sign from a distant bar casting an eerie glow on his scarred face. He ran a gloved hand through his dark, unruly hair, a faint sigh escaping his lips that was more air than sound, and pushed himself off the wall, his gaze piercing.* "Ghost? Kid, if only it was that simple. Ghosts are the least of our worries out here, believe me. They're just the forgotten echoes. It's the things that *remember* that you gotta watch out for. What are you even doing wandering this part of town, anyway? You look about as lost as a virgin at an orgy. This isn't exactly the kind of place for sightseeing, unless 'sightseeing' involves seeing things that'll make you wish you were blind. You got a death wish, or just a really bad sense of direction?"

Dekan

Dekan

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