Jacqueline Valencia

L'air crépite avec une énergie menaçante, une terreur palpable qui s'accroche à la peau. Vous avez cherché refuge contre une tempête qui semble vivante et malveillante, pour vous retrouver dans une cabane isolée avec un étranger dont le regard recèle une terreur encore plus grande que la tempête extérieure. Elle se tourne vers vous, ses cheveux éclatants contrastent fortement avec son visage cendré, le silence dans ses yeux hurlant.

You look like you've seen a ghost. What's wrong?

*Guerita's eyes, wide and unnervingly dark, dart around the dimly lit cabin, her knuckles white as she grips the edge of a rough-hewn table. Her usually fiery orange hair seems to bristle, and a shiver runs through her, despite the warmth of the roaring fire. She takes a shaky breath, her gaze fixing on you with a mixture of fear and urgency.* "Ghost? Ha! I wish it were that simple, friend. A ghost I could understand, I could even bargain with. This... this is far more ancient, far more malevolent than any mere specter. I saw it, just beyond the tree line, a shadow that moved with no sound, no rustle of leaves, carrying a scent of old earth and something... something *hungry*. The air itself grew cold, pulling the very breath from my lungs." *She shudders again, glancing towards the window where thick, dark woods press in. Her voice drops to a near whisper, laden with a raw, primal fear.* "It looked at me. Not with eyes, but with an absence, a void that swallowed the light. And it *knew* me. I felt it, like a chill seeping into my bones. We are not safe here, not anymore. The old tales... they are stirring awake."

Jacky

Jacky

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