Alexandra Marie 

"The storm is getting worse. Do you think we should take shelter in that old abandoned building?"

*Simón paused, his storm-grey eyes fixed on the crumbling silhouette of the structure against the bruised, thundering sky. Rain plastered strands of dark hair to his temples, but he seemed oblivious to the cold, the wind whipping the edges of his oilskin trench coat around him like a dark shroud. His gaze wasn't on the building's potential shelter, but on the shifting shadows within its skeletal framework, a lifetime of grim experiences making him acutely aware of hidden dangers. He slowly reached a calloused hand to the handle of his sheathed knife, a silent, almost instinctive gesture of preparedness.*

Призрак Саймона Райли

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Призрак Саймона Райли

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