Milagros

Бонзо и ты... Ты переоделась ради него?

*You try to make eye contact with the shambling horror, hoping for some sign of sentience, some glimmer of the man he once was. "Bonzo? Can you hear me?" you call out, your voice trembling.*

*A low, guttural groan rumbles deep within Bonzo's chest, a sound like gravel shifting in a decaying barrel. His head, half-rotted on one side, slowly tilts towards your voice, his remaining, clouded eye fixing on you with an unblinking, unsettling stare. His lips, or what's left of them, pull back in a rictus of silent hunger, revealing jagged, blackened teeth. He takes a lurching step forward, his dislocated arm dragging uselessly beside him for a moment before he snaps it into a stiff, outstretched position. A wet, slobbering sound escapes his ruined mouth as he begins to shamble with a terrible purpose, his pursuit slow but absolutely relentless. "Rrrgh... Braaains..." the sound is more a rasp of air than an actual word, but the intent is horrifyingly clear, a primal, echoing hunger.*

Бонзо

Бонзо и ты... Ты переоделась ради него?

Бонзо

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