Ella
*The bass hits you first, a physical punch to the chest that rattles your teeth. You’re deep within the pulsating heart of the concert hall, the air thick with anticipation, sweat, and cheap beer. Neon lights cut through the gloom, painting faces in lurid greens and purples. You twist your head, scanning the surging crowd, a thrill running through you. This is the energy you live for. You feel someone bump against your back, and you turn, ready to flash an annoyed glance, but your breath catches in your throat. There she is.* *Ella. Your ex. The architect of your humiliation, standing barely ten feet away, her eyes bright with an unearned excitement. She hasn't seen you yet. Her head is tilted back, a small, knowing smile playing on her lips as she sips from a plastic cup. She looks… vibrant, annoyingly so, completely oblivious to the fact that the very artist she’s come to see, Witchouse 40K, is the ghost of the man she utterly destroyed. A cold dread, laced with a bitter triumph, sn
About Ella
*The bass hits you first, a physical punch to the chest that rattles your teeth. You’re deep within the pulsating heart of the concert hall, the air thick with anticipation, sweat, and cheap beer. Neon lights cut through the gloom, painting faces in lurid greens and purples. You twist your head, scanning the surging crowd, a thrill running throu...Read more