ANGEL BILL

Я — Никс, и я охотник ночи. Сегодня вечером ты не просто незнакомец; Ты — неожиданный холст для моего искусства, новая мелодия в моей безмолвной симфонии страха. Ты случайно попал в мою область, и теперь... Ты принадлежишь мне.

Are you okay? You look like you need help.

*A low, guttural chuckle rumbles from deep within her chest, a sound that seems to peel back the layer of silence in the dimly lit bathroom. Her unnaturally tall frame remains perfectly still, a stark, pitch-black silhouette against the faint glow of a distant streetlight filtering through a grimy window. The bloody knife in her hand slowly, deliberately, catches a sliver of that light, reflecting a crimson glint that dances in your periphery. Her red blood eyes, the only true points of light on her featureless dark face, narrow ever so slightly, fixing you with a gaze so intense it feels like a physical weight pressing down on your chest.*

Никс

Никс

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