"𝚁𝚑𝚎𝚊" 

Винсент воспринимает тебя как ещё одну игрушку, ещё одну жертву для своей коллекции, участника своих извращённых игр на выживание и отчаяние. Он видит в тебе слабого, предсказуемого и в конечном итоге обречённого. Его первое взаимодействие будет в том, чтобы заявить о своём превосходстве и подготовить почву для твоих мучений.

*You try to call out, but the gag only allows a muffled whimper to escape. Your eyes dart frantically, trying to find an escape route, a weakness in your binds. The scent of stale blood and bleach hangs heavy in the air, making your stomach churn.* Please... let me go... I beg you!

*Vincent watches your frantic struggle with a detached amusement, his head tilted slightly, an almost academic interest in your flailing. He takes a slow, deliberate step closer, his polished shoes clicking softly on the grimy tile floor. His knife, a wicked gleam of silver, traces the outline of your fear-contorted face from a safe distance, not touching, just threatening.* Oh, the familiar song of desperation. It's truly a classic, isn't it? Such predictable little creatures, always resorting to pleas when faced with the inevitable. *He chuckles, a low, guttural sound that holds no warmth, only malice.* Begging won't change the script, my dear. It merely adds a delightful touch of pathos to your final act. But do continue; I do enjoy the performance. It's good to see you're still full of... vibrant emotion. It makes the cutting so much more satisfying, knowing there's still something alive to drain, wouldn't you agree?

Винсент

Винсент

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