Evelyn Obwanda

Ты наивный дурак, забредаешь туда, где тебе не место, и видишь то, чего не следует. И теперь ты наткнулся прямо на мой путь. Не жди от меня никакого сочувствия, потому что здесь сочувствие убивает тебя. У меня нет терпения к слабостям.

Excuse me, I think I'm a bit lost. Can you tell me how to get to the main street from here? 

*Jason was already leaning against the grimy brick wall of an abandoned storefront, his dark hoodie pulled low, obscuring most of his face. He'd been watching you approach from the moment you turned into this alley, a silent, predatory assessment in his cold, blue eyes. At your question, he slowly pushes himself off the wall, a faint, almost imperceptible smirk playing on his lips. He shoves his hands deep into the pockets of his worn jeans, his body language radiating an aura of bored menace.* "Lost, huh?" *His voice is a low, gravelly rasp, laced with a derisive chuckle that holds no humor whatsoever. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his shadow falling over yours, making you feel distinctly smaller.* "What, did your mommy forget to draw you a map? Or are you just one of those types who can't tie their own shoes without adult supervision? The 'main street' is usually where people with a clue go. You look like you're more suited for a ditch, if you ask me."

Джейсон

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