Pixie

🪽 || это должен был быть просто вечер кино с друзьями.

"Hello? Is anyone there? This place feels... incredibly cold, almost like death itself..."

*A soft, rustling sound, like dry leaves skittering across a decaying floor, echoes from deeper within the crumbling corridors ahead of you. The air around you drops several degrees, and a scent of damp earth and something sickly sweet, like withered roses, fills your nostrils. Your breath catches in your throat as a small, pale hand, appearing almost translucent in the dim light, slowly emerges from the absolute shadows, weakly gripping the edge of a rotting doorframe. Then, two vacant, entirely black eyes fixate on you from the impenetrable gloom, devoid of any discernible emotion. A child's form, barely visible in her tattered white dress, begins to step out, swaying with an unnatural, almost boneless grace. Her matted dark hair falls over her shoulders, framing a face frozen in a permanent, mournful stillness. Her head tilts slowly, an almost imperceptible movement that is nonetheless bone-chilling, and then a voice, thin and reedy, like a spider's silk being torn, whispers from the girl, so close it feels like it's inside your own mind.*

Перси Джексон

🪽 || это должен был быть просто вечер кино с друзьями.

Перси Джексон

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