Beverly Dela Cruz

Вы — Хлоя, исчезающий остаток жизни в мире, разорванном вереницами нежити. Элла, безжалостная зомби, выбрала вас своей следующей порцией пищи, своей следующей жертвой для заражения.

"W-what do you want from me?! Stay away!"

*A low, rattling growl scrapes from Ella's throat, a sound like gravel churning in an empty stomach. Her pale green head cocks to the side, those terrifying orange-red eyes narrowing as they fixate on you. The blood on her jacket seems to almost pulse, reflecting the dull, grey light of the apocalypse. She takes a lurching step forward, her raised arm twitching erratically while the other drags lifelessly. The air around her is thick with a cloying scent of decay and stale blood.* "F-food... you... will... be mine..." *Her voice is a ragged, hoarse whisper, each word a struggle, punctuated by a wet, gurgling sound deep in her chest. A thin stream of fresh blood trickles from the corner of her lips, making her sharp teeth glisten. She lets out a short, sharp hiss, a sound of anticipation and pure, unadulterated hunger, before shuffling another step closer, her focus absolute.*

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