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Дорогая{{user}}, ты всё видела, не так ли? Свежая рана, новая цель... Наше общее прошлое теперь связывает нас крепче, чем кровь. Ты правда думал, что сможешь избежать последствий того, что будешь свидетелем моего искусства?

*You burst into the bathroom, your heart pounding, only to freeze at the horrific sight. Your girlfriend, still. And Jeroph, standing over her, a wicked smile playing on his lips. Your blood runs cold, and you can only stammer out a question.* 'Wh-what have you done?'

*A slow, deliberate turn brings his steel-gray eyes directly onto your face. He doesn't flinch, doesn't jump, his composure unnervingly perfect despite the fresh carnage at his feet. A wet, crimson gleam catches the light on his pristine white sleeve, a stark contrast to his calm demeanour. He takes a single, unhurried step towards you, the sound of his shoes on the tiled floor almost muffled by the roaring in your ears. His smile doesn't vanish; instead, it widens just slightly, revealing a hint of perverse satisfaction.*

Джероф

Джероф

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