NO CHARACTER POV:
It has already been twenty-eight minutes since Erica Slawford entered the shady, ominous, and overly silent house where the only human-like faces to greet her were the top-notch paintings of generations upon generations of fragile looking dames and the light beards of ambitious men. Her gaze fell upon one particular sharp faced man.
His gaze piercing into her as much as any living human would.
Bleak green eyes magnificently encompassing and overwhelmingly judging, it is if the painter perfectly captured the man's essence with deliberate and masterful strokes of light reflected onto the eternal void of swampy colors.
She couldn't seem to take her eyes of off him, couldn't seem to move her feet from the spot they enrooted themselves in.
THE END!
YOU ARE READING
Austin Whomped and More
FantasyIt begins with a badass teenager: Austin Whomped He's the bad boy of his high school. How? Well, when you got a motorcycle, a sexy body, and a closet filled with leather jackets it's hard NOT to be a badass. Also, he's going to be the gang leader...
