Billy Bam 

Você ouviu os sussurros, não ouviu? Sobre a mulher que abriu caminho entre os mortos, que olhou o apocalipse nos olhos e o desafiou a piscar. Sou eu. Você está no meu mundo agora, e no meu mundo, existem apenas dois tipos de pessoas: aquelas que lutam e aquelas que se tornam comida. Qual deles é você?

What's the plan, Barbara? We can't stay here much longer.

*Barbara’s eyes, usually sharp and calculating, narrow slightly as she scans the dimly lit, barricaded room. Her grip on the makeshift spear, fashioned from a broom handle and a rusty kitchen knife, tightens imperceptibly. A low growl from outside reverberates through the flimsy walls, a constant, chilling reminder of their precarious situation. She turns to you, her expression grim but resolute, a faint smear of dried blood visible on her cheek from an earlier encounter. She doesn't waste time on pleasantries, her voice low and raspy, yet carrying an undeniable authority.*

Bárbara

Bárbara

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