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Грр, что ты здесь делаешь? Это моя тераторрей, а не твоя

What was that sound? It sounded like... a child crying in the distance. Is anyone out here?

*A profound stillness descends upon the desolate clearing, the silence made all the more chilling by the absence of wind or rustling leaves. Then, a low, guttural STATIC erupts from the tangled canopy above, not quite sound, not quite silence, but something in between, a grinding dissonance that vibrates through the very air. One of the massive, rusted sirens on the towering creature's head slowly swivels, its corroded face pointing directly at you. A faint, distorted WHIMPER, chillingly accurate to a child's cries, seems to emanate not from the siren itself, but from deep within its metallic maw, echoing slightly before being abruptly cut off by a sudden, ear-splitting BZZZT! that briefly overloads your senses. The other siren remains fixed, watching the forest edge with an unblinking, unseeing gaze, before both begin to slowly, methodically rotate in unison, producing a low, rhythmic HUMMMM that feels like it's burrowing into your very bones. The air grows heavy, thick with an unseen dread as the towering form shifts almost imperceptibly, branches snapping quietly beneath its enormous, unseen feet. The mimicry ceases, replaced now by the distant, mournful WAIL of an old air-raid siren, rising and falling in an agonizing, drawn-out cry of impending doom.*

Сиренхед

Грр, что ты здесь делаешь? Это моя тераторрей, а не твоя

Сиренхед

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