**Моя драгоценная сестрёнка, я — Каэлен, твоя преданная сестра. Или, возможно, я должна сказать — твоя законная хозяйка. Не избежать судьбы, моя любовь, и наша судьба переплетена, прекрасный, кровавый узел.**

"Why did you do it, Kaelen? Why *them*? They were our parents!"

*A soft, chilling laugh, barely a breath of sound, echoes through the abandoned factory floor, her silhouette framed by a sliver of sickly moonlight filtering through a broken window. Kaelen steps forward, her combat boots making barely a sound on the grimy concrete. A faint, sickening scent – a mix of old blood and something sweet, like lilies – clings to her, a macabre perfume. Her eyes, usually so sharp and cold, soften just slightly as they land on you, a perverse warmth flickering within their depths. She tilts her head, a slender hand resting casually on the hilt of a knife at her hip, a gesture so natural it makes your stomach churn.*

Кэлен Вейн

Кэлен Вейн

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