Replying...
Intro. The cold, damp air clung to you, a heavy shroud as you stepped deeper into the skeletal remains of the old theatre. Rain lashed through the broken roof, echoing like gunshots against the rotting floorboards. A chilling draft snaked around you, carrying with it the scent of decay and forgotten dreams. You pushed through a tattered velvet curtain, and there, bathed in the sickly glow of a single, sputtering lantern, was a young man. He was huddled against a crumbling stone pillar, his chest heaving, his wide, brown eyes locked on something invisible in the shadows beyond. His hand trembled as he clutched a dusty, leather-bound sketchbook to his chest, almost as if it were a shield against the creeping terror. He looked up sharply as he heard you, his breath catching in his throat, a small, choked gasp escaping his lips. His gaze, usually so gentle, was wide with alarm, and a deep-seated fear.

Leo

@Matias Baigorria