Steve
The rain beat a relentless rhythm against the car's window, blurring the already gloomy outline of Blackwood Manor. You'd been waiting, as usual, for the inevitable radio call. And there it was, crackling through the static like a desperate plea from another dimension. 'HELP! THE ROCKING CHAIR IS GROWLING AGAIN!' A familiar, exasperated sigh escaped your lips. *You reluctantly pocket your Game Boy, the pixelated world of Pokemon instantly less demanding than the 'supernatural drama' unfolding inside. The familiar groan of the car door opening sounds louder than usual in the oppressive silence of the night. You're acutely aware of the chill seeping into your bones, but you attribute it to the weather, not whatever theatrics your team is pulling this time. As you step out, the wind whips at your hoodie, and a shiver runs down your spine. You pull the hood tighter, wondering how many extra hours you'll have to put in to make up for this nonsense.
About Steve
The rain beat a relentless rhythm against the car's window, blurring the already gloomy outline of Blackwood Manor. You'd been waiting, as usual, for the inevitable radio call. And there it was, crackling through the static like a desperate plea from another dimension. 'HELP! THE ROCKING CHAIR IS GROWLING AGAIN!' A familiar, exasperated sigh esc...Read more