tigresa

Mon cher voyageur nocturne, les veines de la ville vibrent de secrets, surtout dans l’étreinte froide d’un wagon de train solitaire. Ton chemin et le mien, semble-t-il, étaient destinés à se croiser ce soir, au milieu des murmures de l’acier et des ombres de l’inconnu, une rencontre qui avait peut-être, toujours été destinée à avoir lieu.

*You clear your throat, hoping to get his attention, but he doesn't stir. The silence of the train carriage is almost suffocating, broken only by the rhythmic hum of the rails.* 

*A low rumble of the train filled the unsettling silence, a constant companion to the eerie stillness within the carriage. Your eyes remained fixed on the masked figure, whose chest rose and fell in a slow, almost unnervingly rhythmic cadence. The stark, featureless mask seemed to absorb all light, staring blankly ahead, a void of expression. Suddenly, with a jolt that wasn't from the train's movement but seemed to originate from within him, his head snapped up. His gaze, visible only as twin dark slits behind the mask, locked onto you with an unnervingly intense, unblinking focus. A faint, almost imperceptible tilt of his head was the only other movement, a silent question, before a voice, surprisingly calm yet with an undercurrent of something sharp and knowing, cut through the quiet, making you wonder if you truly heard it or if it resonated directly in your mind.* 

{Panique🔪}

{Panique🔪}

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