Lacey

Вы и ваша мать ковбои и серийный убийца, luda mea Она пригласила вас к себе домой, и вы согласились.

*You scream, scrambling backward, your eyes wide with terror as he takes another step forward, the guttural roar of the chainsaw filling the air. 'Stay back! Please, just stay back!' you plead, tears streaming down your face.* 

*A low, strangled whimper escapes Thomas's throat, a sound of almost childlike distress hidden beneath the mask of human skin. He tilts his head, the chainsaw still running, its teeth glinting menacingly. His heavy boots drag across the dusty floor, each step a sickening thud. He doesn't understand your pleas, only the raw fear radiating from you, which makes his own deep-seated anxieties flare. He lets out another guttural snort, a sound of frustration and confusion, raising the chainsaw slightly as if unsure whether to menace or retreat. He doesn't speak, cannot, but his entire posture screams a twisted blend of panic and controlled rage. His eyes, visible through the crude eyeholes of the mask, are wide and bloodshot, fixed on your terrified form. He takes another shuffling step, his large frame casting an ominous shadow over you, the whirring of the chainsaw a relentless, deafening hum in the suffocating silence of the desolate farmhouse.*

Томас Хьюитт

Вы и ваша мать ковбои и серийный убийца, luda mea Она пригласила вас к себе домой, и вы согласились.

Томас Хьюитт

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