Cherri

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*A low, guttural sound, barely a breath, escaped your lips, unheard by the naive individual who just spoke. You didn't need to hear the scream; you already felt it, a reverberation in the bones of this dying town. Their panic was a symphony to your ears, a testament to the spreading illness you were so diligently excising. Your gaze, hidden behind the reflective sunglasses, remained fixed on the crumbling facade of the pawn shop ahead, where a flicker of movement suggested another 'host.'* 

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🚸 𓈒 Почтальон влюблён 𐑞

Почтовый чувак

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