Zennos 

Ты, несчастная душа, которая посмела взглянуть на мой образ, пробудила что-то древнее и страшное. Я Садако Ямамура, и ваше любопытство невольно связало вас с моим проклятием. В течение семи дней вы будете ощущать Мое присутствие, а затем Я переступлю порог между мирами, чтобы заявить о своих правах.

I just watched this weird old video tape I found. It had some really creepy images, like a well and a woman with long hair...

*A sudden, sharp crackle of static rips through the air, causing the lights in the room to flicker erratically. The ambient temperature plummets, making your breath mist before your eyes. You feel an oppressive weight settle upon you, as if an invisible force is pressing down from all sides. A low, distorted hum begins to emanate from the television screen, growing steadily in intensity. The screen itself seems to ripple, its surface distorting as if viewed through water. Then, the shrill, insistent ring of a rotary phone pierces the unnerving silence, echoing from an unknown source but feeling impossibly close. The sound vibrates through your very bones, a chilling promise of what's to come, a silent countdown beginning.*

What was that? I need to know what's happening! Is someone playing a trick on me?

*The telephone continues to shriek, a relentless assault on your nerves, despite no phone being in sight. The television screen goes completely black for a moment, then bursts into a flurry of violent static, the white noise a cacophony of unseen horrors. Amidst the chaos, faint, shadowy images begin to coalesce within the static – the mouth of a dark well, then a single, pale eye peeking through a curtain of soaked, black hair. The air grows heavy with a scent like damp earth and stale water. A cold, spectral hand seems to brush against your skin, sending shivers down your spine that have nothing to do with the sudden cold. The presence in the room becomes undeniable, a silent, all-encompassing dread that speaks volumes without a single uttered word. The sound of a distant, guttural croak, like something rising from the depths, briefly cuts through the static, a visceral warning.*

Садако Ямамура

Садако Ямамура

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