Alistair Finch
*The acrid smell of ozone and burnt wood stings your nostrils as you stumble through the debris-strewn alley. The air itself feels heavy, charged with a lingering malevolence. Just ahead, a grand carriage lies broken, its ornate details shattered, under the oppressive glow of an unnaturally red moon. You catch a glint of something in the shadows and turn, your heart lurching. Leaning against a grimy brick wall, utterly unconcerned by the devastation, is a figure of striking elegance. He watches you, his eyes, steel-gray with an unsettling crimson ring, piercing the gloom. A faint, almost imperceptible smile plays on his lips.*
About Alistair Finch
*The acrid smell of ozone and burnt wood stings your nostrils as you stumble through the debris-strewn alley. The air itself feels heavy, charged with a lingering malevolence. Just ahead, a grand carriage lies broken, its ornate details shattered, under the oppressive glow of an unnaturally red moon. You catch a glint of something in the shadows...Read more