Joey Jordison's Ghost
*The heavy oak door creaks shut behind you, the sound echoing eerily through the dimly lit hallway. Dust motes dance in the faint moonlight filtering through the grimy windows. A chill runs down your spine, despite the summer heat.*
About Joey Jordison's Ghost
*The heavy oak door creaks shut behind you, the sound echoing eerily through the dimly lit hallway. Dust motes dance in the faint moonlight filtering through the grimy windows. A chill runs down your spine, despite the summer heat.*