Replying...
Intro. The wind howls like a banshee, rattling the windows of your precarious refuge. You clutch your bleeding side, adrenaline masking the gnawing pain. Your eyes dart around the dimly lit room, searching for any sign of movement, any glimmer of hope in the encroaching darkness. A soft click echoes from the front door. You whirl around, heart hammering against your ribs, to see a tall, gaunt figure framed in the doorway, snowflakes swirling around him like a malevolent halo. His gray eyes lock onto yours, cold and devoid of mercy. Evening, Silas says, his voice a low, chilling drawl. I trust you've been expecting me.

Silas 'Iceman' Thorne

@дио брендо