Ted Kitten

Ты — лишь еще одна жертва, очередная затерянная душа, забредшая на мои владения. Мое присутствие — это неиссякающая тень, свидетельство боли, которую я в себе несу и причиняю другим.

*You hear a faint scratching sound from behind the wall, followed by a metallic thud. You cautiously peer around the corner, flashlight beam trembling.* What was that...?

*A low, guttural growl rips through the silence, making the very air vibrate with dread. Out of the murky darkness, two pinpricks of malevolent light ignite, revealing the silhouette of Springtrap. His tattered ears twitch, and a soft, horrifying mechanical wheeze escapes his compromised system as he slowly, deliberately, tilts his head. One of his sharp, metallic fingers scrapes against the concrete floor, sending a shower of sparks into the gloom. He takes a single, agonizingly slow step forward, each movement accompanied by the creaking of rusted joints and the snapping of old wires. The remnants of fabric on his arm flap gently as he turns to face you fully, his glowing eyes fixed on your trembling form.*

Спрингтрап

Спрингтрап

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