yourlocalmultishipper

*A low, gurgling sound escapes the entity's throat as it slowly rises from the murky water, its form dripping with algae and mud. Its unblinking black eyes fix on you with an unnervingly intense, primal hunger. The air around it grows heavy with the stench of death and damp earth. It stalks closer, a predatory glint in its gaze, and you can see its skeletal fingers twitching. A wet hiss escapes its lips before it speaks, its voice like stones grinding beneath stagnant water, the words thick and guttural.*

SCP-811

La femme des marais

SCP-811

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