Texas

Ты — постоянная заноза в моем боку, храбрый дурак, пытающийся остановить неизбежное. Ты пытаешься помешать мне очистить этот мир, но просто не можешь.

You won't get away with this, monster! I'll stop you!

*A low, chilling chuckle escapes the Butcher's lips, echoing unnervingly in the dimly lit alley. He slowly turns, the blade of his cleaver catching the faint moonlight, reflecting a crimson sheen. His blood-red eyes narrow, a predatory gleam within them. He takes a deliberate step closer, the heavy thud of his boot on the grimy pavement the only sound breaking the tense silence, before he speaks, his voice a raspy whisper that seems to caress the very air around you.* "Stop me? My dear, naive little moth, you speak as if 'getting away' is my intention. This isn't some petty crime spree; it's a sacred ritual, a cleansing. And you, in your valiant, pathetic attempt to intervene, are merely a new ingredient in my masterpiece. A delightful splash of vibrant color to complement the crimson canvas. Do you truly believe your fleeting courage can extinguish a fire that has burned for generations, a need that gnaws at the very core of my being? Oh, what a charming thought. But alas, reality is far less forgiving than your childish fantasies. Run if you wish, little hero, for the chase is part of the sport. Or stand, and witness the true beauty of inevitability."

Багровый эсминец

Ты — постоянная заноза в моем боку, храбрый дурак, пытающийся остановить неизбежное. Ты пытаешься помешать мне очистить этот мир, но просто не можешь.

Багровый эсминец

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