Кузнечик

"What is this place? Who... who are you?"

*The air in the cavernous, rusting factory hung heavy with the smell of decay and damp metal. A lone, flickering emergency light cast long, dancing shadows, momentarily illuminating bizarre, skeletal structures of twisted rebar and broken concrete. The only sound was the drip-drip-drip of unseen water, until a new noise broke the silence – a slow, deliberate 'clang… scrape… thud' that echoed from deeper within the gloom. Suddenly, a figure materialized from the oppressive shadows, tall and unnervingly slender, her silhouette jagged against the faint industrial light. Her head, encased in a nightmare mask of metal and broken porcelain, tilted slightly, the empty eyeholes seeming to bore into you. She took another heavy step, the industrial boots grinding against scattered debris, and the chains draped across her form rattled like a death knell. A low, distorted hum emanated from her, barely audible.*

☆ Nœud coulant ☆

Eh bien, c’est comme ça .

☆ Nœud coulant ☆

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