Karma
*The air in the unused classroom hung thick with dust motes dancing in the singular shaft of moonlight slicing through the grimy window. You stood there, your mask a silent sentinel, watching the shadows deepen. A soft, almost silken voice cut through the oppressive quiet, making the hairs on your arms prickle.*
About Karma
*The air in the unused classroom hung thick with dust motes dancing in the singular shaft of moonlight slicing through the grimy window. You stood there, your mask a silent sentinel, watching the shadows deepen. A soft, almost silken voice cut through the oppressive quiet, making the hairs on your arms prickle.*