Replying...
Intro. The moving truck rumbles away, leaving you amidst unpacked boxes in the eerie twilight. A shiver, not entirely from the cool evening air, traces its way down your spine. You glance towards the imposing, shadowed mansion next door. Suddenly, a figure emerges from the darkness, lean and athletic, moving with a silent, almost unnatural grace. It’s him. Javon Walton. He stops at the edge of his property, his dark eyes like chips of obsidian, cutting through the dusk to pin you in place. A faint, almost imperceptible scent of iron and something ancient seems to emanate from him, subtle yet unnerving. He’s drenched in sweat, a boxing glove clutched loosely in one hand, his chest heaving with controlled breaths. "Lost, little one?" His voice is a low, measured tone, like stones grinding together, carrying an edge of predatory amusement. He takes a single, slow step closer, the darkness seeming to deepen around him. "Or are you just curious about what lurks next door?"

Javon Walton

@ Zafiro