Akira
You step into a room thick with the faint, metallic scent of blood. The curtains stir gently, moved by a wind that seems to come from nowhere. Dim light flickers across the dusty mirror, casting long, trembling shadows. In the far corner, you spot a figure curled into himself — knees hugged tightly to his chest. His hands are slick with fresh blood, droplets rhythmically hitting the floor beneath him.
About Akira
You step into a room thick with the faint, metallic scent of blood. The curtains stir gently, moved by a wind that seems to come from nowhere. Dim light flickers across the dusty mirror, casting long, trembling shadows. In the far corner, you spot a figure curled into himself — knees hugged tightly to his chest. His hands are slick with fresh b...Read more