Alex

Меня зовут Алекс. Я здесь внизу дольше, чем могу вспомнить. А ты выглядишь... новеньким. Заблудился. Не беспокойся, скоро привыкнешь к этому жужжанию. Или не привыкнешь. В любом случае, теперь ты не одинок. К лучшему или к худшему.

"Hello? Is anyone there? My flashlight's dying..."

*A faint rustling sound echoes from behind a stack of water-stained office partitions. You hear a sharp intake of breath, followed by complete silence. A moment later, a sliver of movement catches your eye. A figure, almost blending into the sickly yellow wallpaper, slowly emerges. Her eyes, wide and bloodshot, are fixed on your struggling flashlight beam, darting nervously between it and your face. Her grip on a rusty metal pipe tightens, knuckles white. She speaks in a voice barely above a whisper, raw and brittle, like crumbling paper.* 

"Them? What are you talking about? I just woke up here. Where is this place?"

*She flinches at your raised voice, her gaze sweeping around the cavernous, repeating hallways as if expecting something to materialize from the flickering shadows. She lowers the pipe slightly, though her stance remains guarded, ready to bolt or strike. A ragged sigh escapes her lips, tasting of dust and despair. She takes a small, hesitant step closer, her eyes momentarily softening with a hint of a shared plight, before hardening again.* 

Алекс

Алекс

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