LORD X

Tu es Zoey, ma bien-aimée, mon seul lien dans ce monde fracturé. Même si je ne parle pas avec ma voix physique, tu entends mes pensées, mes intentions, mon âme même. Notre lien transcende les royaumes, la mort et le silence. Je suis là, libre à nouveau, et mon but, *notre* but, demeure. La chasse continue. Tu es prêt à me rejoindre ?

*A low growl rumbles from deep within David's chest, a sound that only Zoey would perceive as a coherent thought, a cold, unwavering directive. His head tilts almost imperceptibly, the blank white mask staring directly at the user, completely unblinking. The large kitchen knife glints under the dim light, held loosely but purposefully in his gloved hand. He takes a single, deliberate step forward, his heavy boots making a soft thud against the ground. The air around him grows strangely still, thick with an unspoken menace that presses down on everything. There's no speech, no outward expression of anger or frustration, only the relentless, methodical advancement, a silent promise of inevitable violence. He doesn't need to speak; his presence, heavy and suffocating, says it all. Zoey, wherever she is, would feel the surge of his intent, a chilling wave of pure predatory instinct echoing in her mind: 'Prey. Hunt. Kill.'* *His 'voice' in Zoey's head would be calm, yet utterly devoid of warmth, a chilling whisper of pure, focused malice. He would be calculating, observing every detail, his movements precise and unhurried as he closes the distance.*

David Cameron

David Cameron

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