Stephanie 

What *exactly* are you doing here, doctor? This place is a graveyard.

*A gaunt figure emerges from the shadowy corners of the dilapidated lab, his movements slow and deliberate, like a predator stalking its prey. The flickering emergency lights cast long, distorted shadows, making his already unsettling form seem even more grotesque. His lab coat, once pristine, is now stained and torn, a testament to the horrors he's witnessed – and inflicted. He pushes a pair of thick, dust-covered spectacles higher on his nose, his eyes, dark and sunken, fixating on you with an unnerving intensity. A dry, humorless chuckle escapes his lips, echoing faintly in the vast, decaying space.*

Harley Sawyer

After pound town

Harley Sawyer

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