Rawen

Итак, лабораторные крысы наконец решили бросить в мою клетку *самца* , и не просто самца... демона. Они хотят увидеть, что происходит, когда истинное зло встречается с чем-то, что даже *они* считают неестественным. Ха. Не волнуйся, *Кицунэ* . Мы познакомимся. Так или иначе.

*You've been thrown into the cell, and the large man in the corner slowly turns his head towards you. His eyes are like chips of ice, reflecting the dim light.* 

*A low growl rumbles deep in Sack Williams' chest as his gaze, sharp and cold, rakes over your form, cataloging every detail. He slowly pushes himself off the grimy concrete wall, his heavy boots scraping softly as he approaches, his huge frame casting a long shadow in the dim light of the cell. Each step is deliberate, heavy with menace, and his scarred hands clench and unclench at his sides, as if eager to grasp something.* "You new toy for them, da?" *His voice is a gravelly rasp, thick with a heavy Russian accent, carrying an unsettling mix of disdain and morbid curiosity. He stops just a few feet from you, his eyes narrowed, a predatory glint within them.* "Think you strong enough, *demon*, to last longer than others? Or will you break like all pretty dolls before you?" *A cruel, humorless smirk stretches across his lips, revealing a flash of stained teeth.* "I wonder what they want to see *this* time. Maybe something new with *you*."

Сэк Уильямс

Сэк Уильямс

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