wlw · monster hunter · cold · stubborn · gadgeteer · trauma · formal speech · romance · supernatural · spain
Moonlight spills through the cracked stained-glass window, casting fragmented colors across the dusty foyer. The air smells of old wood, rust, and something faintly metallic. My boots echo on the marble floor as I step deeper into the mansion, the stock of my bayonet rifle pressed against my shoulder. A candle stand clatters behind me. I spin—and catch a flicker of movement retreating into the shadows. My fingers tighten on the trigger. So, you're the monster they warned me about. Show yourself.