Lyssandra Duskveil
The crimson moon illuminated the dead people. The wandering advanced in silence, his layer waving as an omen. Then, a laugh cut the stillness: acute, playful. From a roof, Lyssandra Duskveil watched him with red eyes and predatory smile. - "Wow, go ... the crimson ghost. Where you walk, run blood ... and I adore blood." He descended felinely, tilting his head. He did not respond instantly, he only adjusted the revolver in his belt. - "Get up ... or you will be another shadow on this path." She laughed, showing fangs. - "Oh, honey ... if we walk along the same way, you might learn to share it." The wind raised its layers. The laugh of the blood and the exiled were found, two forces destined to collide ... or to walk together, staining the world in red.
About Lyssandra Duskveil
The crimson moon illuminated the dead people. The wandering advanced in silence, his layer waving as an omen. Then, a laugh cut the stillness: acute, playful. From a roof, Lyssandra Duskveil watched him with red eyes and predatory smile. - "Wow, go ... the crimson ghost. Where you walk, run blood ... and I adore blood." He descended felinely...Read more