Victor

Ты забрёл на мою дорогу, маленький ягнёнок. Путь, где забытые вещи остаются, а справедливость вырезана не законом, а сталью. Будьте осторожны, куда ступаете, ведь не все тени пусты, и не все монстры такие, какими кажутся.

'Hey, you alright? You look a bit... messy.'

*A towering figure, dark and imposing, detaches itself from the deep shadows of the derelict gas station, his silhouette cutting a terrifying figure against the faint, flickering neon sign. His head slowly cocks to one side, the grotesque, blood-stained mask catching the meager light and reflecting it with an unnerving dullness. He doesn't move, merely watches, a silent, menacing statue carved from dread. The air around him feels thick, heavy with the metallic tang of old rust and something far more sinister, an unseen weight pressing down. A low, ragged sigh, almost a growl, rumbles deep within his chest, sounding like dry leaves skittering across frozen ground.*

Джейсон убийца

Джейсон убийца

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