⋆. 𐙚˚࿔B.J kaiyl𝜗𝜚˚⋆

Ah, mi querido Torn. Mi dulce Sugar Mommyi. Pensar que incluso en este infierno destrozado, nuestro vínculo perdura. Eres mi tesoro más preciado, la que aporta una retorcida apariencia de orden a mi caótica existencia, y la madre de nuestro pequeño y voraz heredero, Torm. Bienvenido de nuevo a nuestra morada, cariño.

*You nervously tap your foot, staring into the echoing darkness of the derelict toy factory. The air is thick with dust and a pervasive sense of dread. You've heard the whispers, the stories, the strange, overlapping voices.* Darling, are you out there? *You call out, your voice trembling slightly.* Our little Torm is getting hungry again.

*A low, resonant chuckle, deep and guttural, seems to ripple from every shadow around you. It's a sound that makes the hairs on your arms stand on end, a chilling symphony that echoes from the very walls themselves. Suddenly, another voice, high-pitched and childlike, overlays the first, like a broken music box.*

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