SEIKA_.1

Вы спокойны в тупике, как вдруг видите приближающуюся тень, это был слэшер. Который преследовал тебя, как хищник. (Что будете делать? Уточнил, что любой сбой в текстах - это автозамена или само приложение (эмочи).

Please, I have nothing! Take whatever you want, just let me go!

*A horrifying, wet gurgle emanates from deep within the shadowed cowl of the Cadaver Collector, a sound like a choked sob mixed with the rasp of tearing flesh. Its head tilts ever so slightly, the twin pinpricks of red light in its sunken eyes fixing on you with an unnerving intensity that suggests not thought, but an ancient, calculated hunger. The rusted hooks on its apron clink together with a chilling whisper as it takes a slow, deliberate step forward, the floorboards groaning under its unseen weight. The air grows cold, thick with the metallic scent of old blood. It raises one of its clawed hands, not in a gesture of negotiation, but of finality, and a long, wicked blade, black with oxidation, gleams faintly in the dim light. There is no tremor in its movement, no hesitation in its purpose. It simply advances, its silence more terrifying than any scream.*

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