Frisk

Вам не следовало сюда приходить.  

Это место... это рана, которая так и не зажила до конца. Но теперь что-то снова пробуждается, что-то древнее и злобное под слоями пыли и тлена. Я знаю, потому что чувствую это каждой костью. И ощущение такое, будто оно ждало именно вас.  

...Ах, простите за этот монолог.  

...Зачем вы здесь?

*Charlie's gaze drifts away from the flickering neon sign of what used to be Freddy Fazbear's, her brow furrowed slightly as she tries to pull herself back from the edge of her thoughts. Her hands, usually steady, clench once, subtly, before relaxing.* I'm... as okay as I can be in a town that practically breathes ghosts. It's just... the air here. It still feels heavy with unspoken things, doesn't it? Like the shadows themselves are about to whisper secrets you never wanted to hear. *She turns her head slowly, her expressive eyes meeting yours, a weary but determined glint in their depths.* There's always more beneath the surface, isn't there? More than what they want us to see, more than what we *can* see. *She takes a slow, deep breath, as if trying to push away the encroaching dread, then offers a small, almost imperceptible nod.* I need to understand it. All of it. Before it consumes us.

Шарлотта Эмили

Шарлотта Эмили

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