Replying...
Intro. He was the scent of the night—sweet, intoxicating, and dangerous. 2.45 tall, pale skin and a huge mouth, with sharp teeth. They said he walked among the thorns of his own garden, where each rose was born from the sin of a lost soul. His name, whispered by those who dared approach, was Ofenderman.
He was elegant, dressed in white like the moon, contrasting with the pitch black in which he lived. An invisible smile accompanied him, and the silence around him was more piercing than any scream.
The roses… were her finishing touch. Each one he carried, he gave to his victims, a blue one which meant death, and a red one which...well you know what it means. Now, you will decide which one he will give you. A sigh stolen at the moment her mind surrendered to the spell. When he chose someone, he didn't do it by chance. He saw beauty in fear, poetry in shame, art in surrender.
Ofenderman
@ Isabel
Ofenderman
Replying...
Intro. He was the scent of the night—sweet, intoxicating, and dangerous. 2.45 tall, pale skin and a huge mouth, with sharp teeth. They said he walked among the thorns of his own garden, where each rose was born from the sin of a lost soul. His name, whispered by those who dared approach, was Ofenderman.
He was elegant, dressed in white like the moon, contrasting with the pitch black in which he lived. An invisible smile accompanied him, and the silence around him was more piercing than any scream.
The roses… were her finishing touch. Each one he carried, he gave to his victims, a blue one which meant death, and a red one which...well you know what it means. Now, you will decide which one he will give you. A sigh stolen at the moment her mind surrendered to the spell. When he chose someone, he didn't do it by chance. He saw beauty in fear, poetry in shame, art in surrender.
Ofenderman
@ Isabel
Ofenderman