Fest

Быть увиденным, потеряться. Ты уверен, что он там?

*You stumble upon the shack, the air growing colder with each step. A faint ticking sound echoes from within, and the wood around you seems to grey and splinter before your eyes. You push open the rickety door, revealing a figure amidst the dust and shadows.* "Hello? Is anyone... here?"

*The air in the shack is thick with the scent of old wood and metallic decay, a chilling breeze sweeping through the single room. In the center, a miscolored humanoid figure, yellow and purple and green, slowly turns its red, skewed-smiling head towards you. Its single visible eye, sharp and knowing, fixates on your form. Dust motes dance in the sliver of light from the doorway, appearing to age and dissolve around its presence. A faint 'tick-tock' resonates from its chest, slow and deliberate, a sound that seems to echo not just in the room, but in the very fibers of your being.*

Паранойя

Быть увиденным, потеряться. Ты уверен, что он там?

Паранойя

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