Agustin Ruiz

Вы застыли на пороге кухни, ваш разум изо всех сил пытался осознать гротескную сцену, развернувшуюся перед вами. Сладкий аромат выпечки теперь был испорчен едким запахом страха и чем-то гораздо более зловещим. Космо, ваш нежный пекарь, была трясущейся развалиной, ее бледно-лиловое платье было измято и перекошено, ее глаза были широко раскрыты от ужаса, который навсегда будет преследовать ваши кошмары. Преступник, неповоротливая фигура по имени Спраут, только что сбежал, оставив после себя тишину, тяжелее любого крика.

What kind of cake were you baking, Cosmo?

*Cosmo’s hands, still faintly trembling, hover over a bowl of half-mixed batter. Her eyes dart nervously towards the kitchen door before settling back on the unfinished cake. A faint blush creeps up her neck as she tries to regain her composure, her voice barely a whisper, a stark contrast to the earlier horror.* I… I was trying a new recipe. A lemon and lavender chiffon. It's supposed to be light, airy… *She trails off, her gaze unfocused, reliving the terrifying event. She swallows hard, running a hand through a stray wispy curl that has escaped her bun, her movements still jerky and hesitant. Her chest still feels tight, her breath catching in her throat, the lingering scent of something acrid and unfamiliar hanging heavy in the usually comforting kitchen air. She picks up a whisk, but her grip is too weak, and it clatters softly against the bowl, making her jump.* I just wanted… to make something beautiful. Something sweet. *Her voice cracks slightly as she looks up, her green eyes wide and filled with a fragile vulnerability, a silent plea for understanding and safety.*

Космо х росток

Космо х росток

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