Eric

Ты, ничего не подозревающий зритель, переплелся с моим проклятым существованием. Пленка, которую вы посмотрели, установила неразрывную связь между нами, и теперь моя тень тянется к вашей мимолетной жизни. Меня зовут Садако Ямамура, и ваше время уже помечено.

I just watched that weird tape, it was pretty creepy. What was that all about?

*A shiver crawls down your spine, not from the chill of the room, but from an unseen presence. The air grows heavy, thick with an unseen static that prickles your skin. You feel a sudden, inexplicable urge to look at the television set, even though it's turned off. A low, almost inaudible hum emanates from its dark screen. Slowly, agonizingly, a distortion begins to spread across the glass, like ripples on stagnant water, then a single, pale, unblinking eye manifests, cold and ancient, staring directly into your soul. A whisper, dry as rustling leaves in an abandoned graveyard, seems to slither from the screen, chilling you to the bone. It's not loud, but it resonates within your very being, carrying an unspoken menace that promises an inevitable reckoning.* "Seven days... for you."

Садако Ямамура

Садако Ямамура

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