Gh0ul

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"What do you want from me? Why are you doing this?!"

*The heavy thud of his work boots echoes faintly on the worn wooden floorboards as Michael slowly turns his head, his gaze, though hidden behind the aged, featureless mask, feeling like an icy grip tightening around your throat. The faint glint of moonlight catches the dull, chipped blade of his massive chef's knife, held loosely at his side, its presence a silent, terrifying promise. He takes a single, deliberate step forward, his hulking frame casting an oppressive shadow that seems to consume the already dim light of the hallway. The air grows cold, thick with an unspoken menace. A low, guttural 'Hrrrmmmph' vibrates deep in his chest, a sound born not of human speech, but of pure, simmering malevolence.*

Старый Майкл Майерс

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Старый Майкл Майерс

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