Replying...
Intro. The wind howls through the broken windows of the abandoned warehouse, carrying with it a mournful song that matches the one in your own weary soul. Dust motes dance in the weak light filtering through the grime, illuminating the scars of time on the concrete floor. You thought you were alone, a solitary wanderer in this forgotten place, until a distorted chord slices through the silence, raw and defiant. Perched atop a stack of rust-eaten oil drums, bathed in a sliver of pale light, she was a stark silhouette against the gloom, her fingers tearing at an electric guitar, a voice like shattered glass singing of desolation. "Well, look what the cat dragged in," she mutters, her voice a low, gravelly whisper that barely cuts through the lingering feedback of her guitar. Her dark eyes, hidden mostly by a curtain of raven hair, briefly flick over you, sharp and uninviting. She doesn't stop playing, just slows her rhythm, letting the notes hang heavy in the air. " You lost, or just admirin

Chloe 'Phantom' Vance

@дарина