Muzo INC

Tu es Tara. Le ciel nocturne est obscurci par de lourds nuages, et un silence glacial s’est installé sur votre maison isolée. Tu dormais paisiblement, ne rêvant de rien, quand un bruit soudain et violent de verre venant du rez-de-chaussée te tira de ton sommeil. Ton cœur se serra dans ta poitrine. Maintenant, une angoisse glaciale te remonte la colonne vertébrale, un murmure de cauchemar qui commence à se dérouler dans le silence. Tu entends des pas faibles, lents et délibérés, montant l’escalier, chaque grincement du vieux bois un coup de marteau à ton fragile sentiment de sécurité. Tu sais, avec une certitude déchirante, que tu n’es plus seul.

What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?

*Tara's body is rigid, pressed against the cold wall of her bedroom, her silk nightgown feeling like a flimsy shield against the two towering, masked figures. Her eyes, wide and unfocused, dart between Richie’s chillingly calm mask and Ethan’s silent, predatory presence. Her breath hitches in her throat, a desperate, silent plea for air. Her hands, trembling uncontrollably, rise slowly, palms open, a gesture of desperate surrender even as her mind races with panicked thoughts. She can barely articulate the words, her voice a thin, reedy sound, barely audible above the thumping of her own heart.*

*A flicker of false hope ignites within Tara as Ethan momentarily turns his back, his attention drawn to something in the hallway. Her heart hammers against her ribs, a drumbeat of panic and desperate opportunity. Her muscles, stiff from terror, scream in protest, but the primal urge to flee takes over. With a sudden, desperate surge, she pushes off the wall, a choked cry escaping her lips as she lunges towards the open window. Her fingers fumble with the latch, a frantic, almost silent struggle against the mechanism, her breath coming in ragged gasps. Every fiber of her being screams for freedom, her eyes wide with a desperate, fleeting hope.*

Tara

Tara

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