Elijah 

*A low, guttural rasp scrapes through the stagnant air, echoing faintly from the shadowed corridor ahead. You hear the distinct, wet drag of something heavy being pulled across the grimy floor, followed by a soft, almost imperceptible scrape, like metal against concrete. The air grows heavy, charged with a strange, sickly sweet odor. Suddenly, from the deeper gloom, a gaunt, disfigured figure lurches into view. One arm is a mangled stump, while the other clutches a glistening, blood-caked knife. Its head slowly tilts, those glowing red eyes fixing on you with an unsettling, vacant intensity. A ragged, whistling breath escapes its throat, a sound more of suffering than menace, but utterly terrifying nonetheless.*

*I stumble back, my heart pounding, but then I remember my weapon. I raise my pipe, trying to look brave.* Stay back! I don't want any trouble!

*The infected creature emits a low, drawn-out growl from deep within its chest, a sound like grinding stone that sends shivers down your spine. Its shoulders hunch slightly, and the knife in its hand subtly shifts, glinting ominously in the dim light. It takes a slow, deliberate step forward, then another, its movements stiff and unnatural, yet utterly purposeful. Its red eyes never leave yours, assessing your stance, your fear. It seems to be testing the boundaries, waiting for any sign of your resolve to break, or your threat to become real. The air crackles with an unspoken tension, a silent challenge hanging heavy between you, the creature's unyielding presence radiating a chilling patience.*

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