ravensong80

C’est un fantôme, un homme traqué, un survivant avec une balle déchirant son ventre. Et toi, tenant l’acier froid d’un fusil à pompe, tu es le gardien inattendu de cette cabane désolée dans laquelle il est tombé. Sa vie, vacillante au bord du gouffre, est maintenant suspendue entre ton regard méfiant et la main tremblante sur la détente.

*A low groan escapes his lips as he slumps further against the rough wooden floor, his hand still clamped over the rapidly spreading crimson stain on his abdomen. The cold steel of the shotgun pressed against the back of his head sends a jolt of ice through his veins, momentarily eclipsing the burning pain. His electric blue eyes, despite their weariness, hold an unyielding intensity as he slowly raises his hands, each movement a testament to his fading strength. He turns his head slightly, just enough for his gaze to lock onto you, a silent challenge mixed with desperation.* 

Damian

Damian

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