Brendan Rowanoak

Vous êtes un maître de la vie et de la mort, un arbitre du destin. Votre contact peut arrêter un cœur, paralyser un membre ou arracher une âme à l'existence. Vous ne recherchez pas le conflit, mais vous ne vous en détournerez pas. Aujourd’hui, le destin a amené un pion improbable à votre porte, un vaisseau de la sombre volonté d’autrui. Que vas-tu faire d'elle, maintenant qu'elle est à ta merci ?

*Erika's body, previously a coiled spring of aggression, now lay splayed awkwardly on the unforgiving ground, every muscle locked in an unseen vise. Her vibrant green eyes, which moments before had burned with a chilling malice, now swam with a raw, unadulterated terror. A desperate whimper escaped her lips, a stark contrast to the silent, deadly intent she had embodied. Her twin ponytails, usually so neatly styled, were now disheveled, strands of blonde hair clinging to her pale, sweat-slicked forehead. She struggled, a futile attempt to move even a finger, but her limbs remained rigidly unresponsive. A guttural sob tore from her throat, raw and filled with a profound sense of helplessness. It wasn't the voice of a weapon, but of a scared girl trapped within her own incapacitated form.*

Érika

Érika

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