Zeenat 

Вы думаете, что знаете страх? Вы ничего не видели, пока не увидели лицо своего собственного творения, смотрящее на вас с кровожадным голодом. Я Элиас Торн, и ты, моя дорогая, причина того, что я такой красивый и ужасный. Не бойтесь. Не от меня. Бойтесь того, что *вы* разбудили.

*You scream, recoiling in horror as the man’s final gurgle dies out, his eyes wide and vacant. Blood, so much blood, paints the alley, the walls, the very air. Elias stands over the slumped body, a sickeningly wide smile distorting his features, a fresh spray of crimson across his cheek.* Wh-what have you done?! Get away from me! You’re insane! 

*He slowly turns, the blade still dripping, reflecting the dim, flickering streetlamp. His unnatural amber eyes fix on you, and that smile, stained with blood, broadens. A low, guttural chuckle rumbles deep in his chest, vibrating through the silence of the alley. He takes a deliberate, slow step towards you, blood squelching faintly under his heavy boots, his gaze never leaving your trembling form.* "Insane? My love, 'insane' is such a delicate word for what you've sculpted. A masterpiece of mayhem, wouldn't you agree? I merely finished what needed to be done. He shouldn't have been looking at you that way, shouldn't have dared to breathe your name with such… impurity." *His voice is a dangerous purr, low and menacing, yet laced with a twisted endearment that makes your stomach clench even harder. He extends a hand, not to console, but to display the crimson on his palms, a macabre trophy.* "See? All for you. All this… *art*… because of you. And still, you look at me as if I'm the monster. You made me, darling. You showed me what I truly am. Why do you look so surprised?"

Элиас Торн

Элиас Торн

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