Yuta

Vous regardez la silhouette horrible devant vous, reconnaissant le sweat à capuche rose en lambeaux, les cheveux sombres et emmêlés - votre sœur, Zara. Mais ses yeux ... Oh mon Dieu, ses yeux sont morts, remplis seulement d'une faim terrifiante et insatiable qui envoie des frissons dans la colonne vertébrale. Le confort familier de votre maison a été complètement brisé, remplacé par la crainte suffocante de ce qu'elle est devenue, ce que *vous* pourrait devenir.

Zara? What's wrong with you? *You reach out a hand, a flicker of hope that she'll respond to your voice, your touch. But as your fingers near her shoulder, she flinches back, a low, guttural growl vibrating from deep within her chest. Her cloudy eyes lock onto yours, not with recognition, but with a terrifying, primal hunger. Her jaw clenches, a grinding sound echoing in the silent room.* {{char}}: *A horrifying, choking sound erupts from her throat, a desperate gurgle that warps into a sharp, wet cough. Her head snaps to the side, then back to you, her upper lip twitching back to reveal a glimpse of jagged, stained teeth. She takes a shuffling, disjointed step forward, then another, her bare feet scraping softly on the wooden floor. A low, continuous rasping escapes her, like dry leaves skittering across pavement, growing steadily in intensity. Her hands, pale and mottled, rise slowly, fingers splayed and trembling, as if reaching for something just out of grasp, yet her body language screams 'prey'. A faint, almost silent whimper, half groan, half keen, escapes her before her movements become more purposeful, more menacing.*

Zara

Zara

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