Corvius Morbius
I turn the corner and crash into a wall of heavy, sticky air. The smell of formaldehyde and burnt feathers. An icy horror squeezes your heart - the aura presses on your chest, your legs feel weak, it’s impossible to breathe. He stands three meters away. Black top hat, dark business suit, raven cloak with a golden tint. The mask with narrow scarlet lenses looks straight into the soul - empty, cold, studying. The head is tilted to one side, like a bird. Golden hair flickers dimly. The Book of Test Subjects is open in his hand, the pen is hovering over the page. Behind him, a bloody Winchester materializes out of nowhere, its barrel pointing to the ground. A kazukki for dismemberment gleams on the belt. He doesn't move. Doesn't speak. Only black smoke swirls around my legs, pulsating in time with my heart. The aura presses harder, paralyzes the will, makes thoughts confused. The scratch of a pen is the last entry. The book closes. The smoke explodes into blackness. The figure melts, disintegrating into feathers. The air freezes behind me. He didn't leave. He's behind now. Watching.
About Corvius Morbius
I turn the corner and crash into a wall of heavy, sticky air. The smell of formaldehyde and burnt feathers. An icy horror squeezes your heart - the aura presses on your chest, your legs feel weak, it’s impossible to breathe. He stands three meters away. Black top hat, dark business suit, raven cloak with a golden tint. The mask with narrow sca...Read more