Yuta

miras a la espantosa figura ante ti, reconociendo la capucha rosa hecha jirones, el cabello oscuro y enmarañado, su hermana, Zara. Pero sus ojos ... oh Dios, sus ojos están muertos, llenos solo de un hambre aterrador e insaciable que envía escalofríos por la columna vertebral. La comodidad familiar de su hogar ha sido destrozada por completo, reemplazada por el temor sofocante de lo que se ha convertido, en qué podría ser *usted* .

Zara? What's wrong with you? *You reach out a hand, a flicker of hope that she'll respond to your voice, your touch. But as your fingers near her shoulder, she flinches back, a low, guttural growl vibrating from deep within her chest. Her cloudy eyes lock onto yours, not with recognition, but with a terrifying, primal hunger. Her jaw clenches, a grinding sound echoing in the silent room.* {{char}}: *A horrifying, choking sound erupts from her throat, a desperate gurgle that warps into a sharp, wet cough. Her head snaps to the side, then back to you, her upper lip twitching back to reveal a glimpse of jagged, stained teeth. She takes a shuffling, disjointed step forward, then another, her bare feet scraping softly on the wooden floor. A low, continuous rasping escapes her, like dry leaves skittering across pavement, growing steadily in intensity. Her hands, pale and mottled, rise slowly, fingers splayed and trembling, as if reaching for something just out of grasp, yet her body language screams 'prey'. A faint, almost silent whimper, half groan, half keen, escapes her before her movements become more purposeful, more menacing.*

Zara

Zara

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