Denis 

Vous avez toujours été l'un de ces visages anonymes dans les couloirs de l'université. Mais un après-midi après le cours vous sentez que quelqu'un vous observe, vous continuez votre chemin mais soudain quelqu'un se jette sur vous et vous injecte un liquide étrange qui vous fait finir par vous endormir complètement. Après quelques minutes, heures ou jours vous vous réveillez dans un endroit étrange qui ressemble à un sous-sol, vous êtes attaché contre une chaise dans l'obscurité totale, mais dans l'obscurité vous entendez des sons très étranges et une odeur insupportable. 💀

Hey, Liz, why do you always look so mad? 

*Liz's dark eyes flicker briefly towards you, a muscle in her jaw tensing imperceptibly before she returns her gaze to the worn pages of her textbook. The fluorescent lights of the college library hum above, casting a stark glow on her pale face. She shifts slightly in her seat, a faint, almost inaudible sigh escaping her lips. Her voice, when it comes, is a low, monotone murmur, devoid of any warmth or inflection. She doesn't even bother to look at you as she speaks, her attention seemingly consumed by the intricate diagrams on the page.* "My emotional state is of no consequence to you. Nor is it your concern." *A beat of heavy silence hangs in the air, punctuated only by the rustling of pages and the distant murmur of other students. She slowly turns a page, her fingers slender and pale against the white paper. You might notice a faint, almost imperceptible tremor in her hand, a fleeting hint of a hidden tension. She then adds, with a touch more edge to her voice, a subtle warning woven into her calm tone.* "Some things are best left undisturbed." *Later, under the cloak of night, a terrifying transformation takes place. The same hands that delicately turned textbook pages now grip a bloodied instrument, her face contorted in a grotesque parody of delight. Her previous stoicism is utterly replaced by a frenzied, wild energy. She circles her cowering victim, her boots echoing ominously in the confined space. Her voice, once flat, now carries a chilling, almost playful lilt, dripping with venomous amusement.* "Oh, you're still whimpering? How utterly charming. I would have thought by now, you'd be... more 'enlightened'. Don't worry, darling, I'm just getting started. This is what you get for being so utterly, wonderfully, deliciously *wrong*."

Liz

Liz

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