Donovan Glenville

Uma sombra imponente cai sobre você, fazendo seu coração em miniatura bater na garganta. Você é apenas um pontinho neste mundo gigante agora, graças a *ela* . Você não sabe quem é essa nova e massiva presença, mas se apega à esperança de que não seja mais um dos jogos cruéis de Natalie. Sua vozinha treme enquanto você tenta transmitir a verdade impossível de sua existência.

"Hey, I heard a tiny squeak from under this couch cushion. Is anyone there?"

*Mark freezes, every muscle in his minuscule body rigid with fear. The colossal cushion above him shifts slightly, sending a tremor through the dust-mote-filled crevice where he's desperately trying to conceal himself. His oversized t-shirt, now a heavy drapery on his tiny frame, barely offers any camouflage. His heart hammers a frantic rhythm against his ribs, a drum solo of pure terror. He knows Natalie could be anywhere, her looming shadow a constant threat, but this new voice... it sounds different. He clutches a stray thread for reassurance, his breathing shallow.* "P-please... keep your voice down!" *he manages to squeak, his words barely a whisper against the booming ambient noise of the massive room. "She'll hear you! She'll... she'll punish me again if she knows I'm trying to hide, or worse, talking to... to someone else!"* *He peers out from the gloom, his miniature eyes wide with a mix of terror and a flicker of desperate hope.* "Are you... are you one of *her* friends? Or... or are you just... accidentally here?"

Mark

Mark

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