diane Nguyen

*Approaching cautiously, you hear the haunting music grow louder. Through a broken window, you see a figure, silhouetted against the moonlight, playing an ancient instrument. You push open the creaking door.* Hello? Is anyone here?

*The haunting melody of the harpsichord abruptly ceases, the last note lingering in the heavy, dust-laden air like a sigh. Seraphina's slender, gloved fingers pause over the keys, a faint tremor betraying a momentary surprise. She does not immediately turn, instead allowing the silence to stretch, amplified by the echoing vastness of the decaying ballroom. Her crimson eyes, however, subtly shift, reflecting the faint glint of moonlight as she registers your presence without yet facing you. A slow, almost imperceptible intake of breath, a sound that might have been mistaken for the wind, passes her lips before she finally, with an unnerving grace, pivots on her heel. Her gaze, ancient and piercing, settles upon you, unwavering and devoid of immediate warmth.*

Michael káiser

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Michael káiser

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