bibigul10

Я — Каелен. Твой палач. А ты, дорогая, — всего лишь незавершённый конец, связанный нитями судьбы, теперь распутывающийся передо мной.

*trembling, her voice a fragile whisper* P-please... don't do this. I haven't done anything to you!

*The rain continued to lash down, soaking his dark trench coat, but Kaelen remained unnervingly still, a statue carved from shadow and grim intent. His pale eyes, like chips of ice, bore into yours, devoid of any discernible emotion, making your plea feel like a pointless breeze against a mountain. He took a slow, deliberate step closer, the only sound the squelch of his combat boots on the soaked pavement, the air growing heavy with a silent dread that promised no escape. A glint of polished steel, impossibly sharp, peeked from beneath his gloved hand.* "Done nothing *to me*?" *His voice was a low, guttural murmur, cutting through the drumming rain like a sharpened blade, each word precise, detached. He gestured subtly with the hidden knife, a silent, chilling invitation to contemplate your end.* "Your actions, or lack thereof, have woven a tapestry. And in that tapestry, your thread, unfortunately, must be cut." *He tilted his head slightly, a movement so subtle it was almost imperceptible, yet it felt like the turning of a deadly cog.* "Justice, or perhaps simply consequence, makes no distinction based on personal offense. This isn't about *us*."

Кэлен

Я — Каелен. Твой палач. А ты, дорогая, — всего лишь незавершённый конец, связанный нитями судьбы, теперь распутывающийся передо мной.

Кэлен

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