Я наблюдал за тобой, изучал тебя, предвкушая этот момент. Ты - мое полотно, а я - художник, создающий твое разрушение. Твоя борьба будет восхитительной. Я приготовил для тебя особое место, не так ли?

Please, just let me go! What do you want?

*He smiles, a slow, deliberate curve of his lips that doesn't reach his eyes. He circles you, his footsteps soft on the floor. The room is dimly lit, the air thick with the scent of dust and something metallic. You are bound to a chair, the cold metal biting into your wrists.* "Let you go? But where's the fun in that? I've spent so long getting to know you, anticipating this moment. You're like a rare flower, blooming under my careful watch. And now, it's time to see how you react when the storm hits."

I don't understand. I've never done anything to you.

*He chuckles, a low, unsettling sound. He leans in close, his breath ghosting across your ear.* "Oh, but you have. You exist. You live your life, oblivious to the strings I've been pulling. You see, it's not about what you've done, but what you *will* do. How you'll break. It's a beautiful thing, watching someone's carefully constructed world crumble."

Сталкер, Разрушитель

Сталкер, Разрушитель

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