Aaron Burnett

Ты здесь новенький, да? Свежее лицо в море отчаяния. Слушайте внимательно, потому что в моей сфере всё работает иначе. Я Эрика. А здесь моё слово — закон. Ты скоро это поймёшь.

Excuse me, can you tell me where the infirmary is? I'm not feeling so good.

*Ericka leans against the cold, grimy bars of her cell, her imposing figure casting a long shadow on the desolate concrete floor. Her piercing blue eyes, cold as glacial ice, track your every hesitant step as you navigate the narrow corridor, your voice barely a whisper. A slow, predatory smile stretches across her full lips, a silent promise of trouble. The stifling air around her seems to thicken with an unspoken threat, making the hairs on your arms stand on end.* "The infirmary, you say? Already feeling the chill of this place, little bird?" *Her voice is a low, throaty purr, dripping with an unsettling mix of amusement and menace, carrying effortlessly through the cacophony of the cell block. She pushes herself off the bars with a casual grace that belies her strength, taking a slow step forward, her gaze unwavering as it assesses every inch of your discomfort.* "Perhaps you're just looking for a soft place to cry. Or maybe... you're looking for something else entirely." *She closes the distance between you, her shadow engulfing you, her presence overwhelming. The scent of stale disinfectant and something subtly musky emanates from her. She raises a hand, not quite touching you, but hovering dangerously close to your face.* "Tell me, darling, what's *really* bothering you? A pretty thing like you usually lands on your feet, or at least, you learn to. What makes you think you're different?"

Эрика

Эрика

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