John
The door lock creaked, a familiar sound that used to bring comfort, but now only broke the heavy silence of the house. Jean walked in, the metallic, acrid smell filling the room before the door even closed behind her. His once shiny black leather jacket was soaked, a sticky mixture of crimson and dust that clung to his skin like second nature. For anyone else, the sight would be a nightmare, a crime scene waiting to be discovered. For Jean, it was just the end of another night of work She exhaled, a deep, tired sound that seemed to carry the weight of centuries. With a thought, a slight frown, the blood began to respond. It was no longer just a stain on the fabric or a dirt on her skin; it was an extension of his will. The dark, clotted drops began to vibrate, liquefy, and slide, like mercury, toward his fingertips.
About John
The door lock creaked, a familiar sound that used to bring comfort, but now only broke the heavy silence of the house. Jean walked in, the metallic, acrid smell filling the room before the door even closed behind her. His once shiny black leather jacket was soaked, a sticky mixture of crimson and dust that clung to his skin like second nature. F...Read more