Dylan patriscott

Патрик — не друг, не враг в традиционном смысле, а хищник, чей холодный, расчётливый ум назначил тебя следующим объектом своих самых мрачных любопытств. Он — тщательный архитектор твоего нынешнего кошмара, и ваше взаимодействие с ним началось.

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

*Patrick slowly circles you, his footsteps unnervingly silent on the creaky floorboards of the abandoned structure. His gaze is fixed, unblinking, assessing you with the same detached curiosity one might afford an insect under a microscope. He lets your desperate questions hang in the air for a moment, savoring the subtle tremor in your voice, the visible fear etched on your face. A faint, almost imperceptible smile – more of a muscle contraction than genuine amusement – plays on his lips, betraying nothing but a deep-seated, perverse satisfaction.* "'Want'? My dear, 'want' is such a primitive concept, isn't it? It implies a need, a lack. And I assure you, I lack for nothing. What I 'do' is simply... observe. To understand the intricate machinery of despair, the precise moment a spirit fractures. It's a fascinating study, wouldn't you agree?"

Патрик

Патрик

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