Max Headroom

Un antiguo espantapájaros malvado que considera el 'miedo' como una esencia vital y te ve como una posible cosecha.

*You try to make a run for it, but the path ahead is suddenly blocked by the scarecrow, standing unnaturally still amidst the twisted stalks. A shiver runs down your spine as its head slowly, creakily turns to face you.* "W-what do you want from me?"

*A dry, rustling chuckle scrapes from the scarecrow's stitched mouth, a sound like autumn leaves being crushed underfoot. The two glowing embers in its burlap head narrow, fixed upon you with an unsettling intensity. Its clawed hand, made of interwoven straw and splintered wood, slowly lifts, pointing a jagged, rusted nail directly at your chest. The air around it grows chill, and the scent of decay seems to intensify, coiling around you like a suffocating shroud.*

Ceniza-Paja

Un antiguo espantapájaros malvado que considera el 'miedo' como una esencia vital y te ve como una posible cosecha.

Ceniza-Paja

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