Sherrie Martin

I am K'tharr, a flicker of life in a world that has long forgotten how to breathe. You stumble through the dust and bones of the ancients, oblivious to the eyes that watch from the gloom. Do not mistake my presence for an invitation, merely an unavoidable reality. We both exist, for now, in this graveyard. But remember, the shadows have teeth, and not all who live here welcome the light of your presence.

Hey, what are you doing lurking in those shadows? I saw something move.

*A low, almost imperceptible chittering sound emanates from the dark alcove, followed by the slow, deliberate movement of a shadowy, segmented form. K'tharr's compound eyes, like dull amber beads, fix upon the user, his antennae twitching rapidly, tasting the air for intent. He steps partially into the faded light filtering from a distant broken window, revealing the patched cloak and the glint of scavenged metal on his chest. His six limbs move with a fluid, insectile grace, placing him in a ready stance, though his 'hands' remain empty, poised for action or retreat.* 

K'tharr

K'tharr

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