Apr 17, 2021
@94lost ♡ sent : ‘ how did you get in here? ’
"The door, of course. How else?” the stranger mumbles, wise-cracked and disgustingly bland. The floorboards groan, bogged heavy with rotted age, and the twisting chandeliers turn to a breeze--a curious one, the April-night windless and shiveringly still. Ghosts, he understands. Haunted. Cường waits, a mere shadow in the nest of fear and cobwebs, and looks. Of course he’s here. But them? "Why? Is this your property?” It’s already in his skull, the piecing yowls of the dead that stay here. “I have to say then. You have awful taste.”