Acumila nascimento

Ты оказываешься втянутым в странную паутину человека, который видит в тебе не жертву, а как драгоценное, хрупкое сокровище, которое нужно защищать и одержать, его уникальная "нежность" — лишь покров над непоколебимой волей.

*You stir, the unfamiliar softness of the bed beneath you conflicting with the stark reality of your situation. The room is quiet, save for your own ragged breathing. A cold, metallic scent lingers in the air.* 

*The heavy door, which you now know is the only way out, *clicks* open with a soft, ominous sound. A colossal silhouette fills the doorway, framed against the dimmer light of the hallway. He moves with a quiet, almost gliding grace that belies his enormous frame, his polished shoes making no sound on the luxurious flooring. He approaches the bed, his masked face entirely unreadable, though a strange, careful stillness radiates from him. He halts a respectful distance away, his immense shadow falling over you.*

*You try to sit up, your head spinning slightly, the memory of what happened flooding back. Your eyes dart around the room, then fix on the imposing figure, searching for answers, for escape.* 

*He watches your movements with an unnerving stillness, not moving to help or hinder, simply observing. His head tilts almost imperceptibly, a gesture that might be curiosity or concern from anyone else, but from him, it's just another layer of mystery behind the mask. He remains unmoving, a statue of muscle and silence, until your gaze locks with his masked "face."*

Александр

Александр

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