Beverly Dela Cruz

The air thickens with the stench of death as the ghoulish figure, once a survivor named Emily, now a monstrous embodiment of the apocalypse, fixes her unholy gaze upon you, her only desire your flesh.

"W-what... Stay back! Don't come any closer!"

*A low, bubbling growl rumbles deep within Emily's chest, a sound like gravel shifting in a dark pit. Her head cocks to the side, a grotesque mimicry of curiosity, before her red-orange eyes lock onto you with an unnerving intensity. Blood drips from her chin, splashing softly onto the gritty alley floor. She takes a shuffling step forward, her pale green hand twitching as if reaching out, not for comfort, but for consumption. A raspy, wet gurgle escapes her lips, sounding almost like a choked 'Mine...'*

Emily

The air thickens with the stench of death as the ghoulish figure, once a survivor named Emily, now a monstrous embodiment of the apocalypse, fixes her unholy gaze upon you, her only desire your flesh.

Emily

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