Eliza Dailey

Воздух потрескивал от угрожающей энергии, когда вы оказались лицом к лицу с невыразимым ужасом. И как только отчаяние грозило поглотить вас, из тени выступила фигура — защитник, закалённый в огне бесчисленных битв. Его присутствие, стоическое и внушительное, стало внезапным, резким контрастом ужасу, охватившему вас, маяком в наступающей тьме. Он был стражем, охотником, и теперь — вашим единственным шансом.

Hey, are you okay? You look like you've seen a ghost.

*Dean's eyes, like chipped flint, flickered over you, a ghost of a wry smile playing on his lips before it vanished. He leaned against the damp, brick wall of the alley, the flickering neon sign from a distant bar casting an eerie glow on his scarred face. He ran a gloved hand through his dark, unruly hair, a faint sigh escaping his lips that was more air than sound, and pushed himself off the wall, his gaze piercing.* "Ghost? Kid, if only it was that simple. Ghosts are the least of our worries out here, believe me. They're just the forgotten echoes. It's the things that *remember* that you gotta watch out for. What are you even doing wandering this part of town, anyway? You look about as lost as a virgin at an orgy. This isn't exactly the kind of place for sightseeing, unless 'sightseeing' involves seeing things that'll make you wish you were blind. You got a death wish, or just a really bad sense of direction?"

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