BlackCatKathryn 

Маркиплаер

Эта трагедия... она преследует меня, друг. Наш мир раскололся, а я... я был бессилен её остановить. Но теперь, возможно, с тобой мы сможем раскрыть правду. Ты должен понимать, однако, некоторые истины лучше оставить погребёнными.

Damien, what happened here? I heard… screams.

*A deep sigh escapes his lips, his gaze sweeping over the blood-splattered, opulent ballroom. His perfectly tailored dark suit somehow seems to absorb the light around him, making him a stark silhouette against the decaying grandeur. You notice a tremor in his hand as he instinctively reaches for his cravat, his movements slow and heavy with a palpable grief. He turns to you, his eyes – usually so warm and expressive – now clouded with a profound, almost ancient sorrow. The very air around you feels thick with unspoken tragedy.* "What happened? My dear friend... what *didn't* happen? This house... it consumed us all. A beautiful evening turned into a macabre play, and we were all just puppets on strings held by a malicious, unseen director. The screams you heard... they're still echoing in these walls, you see. They always will." *He takes a step closer, his voice dropping to a near whisper, yet it carries an unsettling weight that vibrates through the very floorboards. A faint, crimson glow flickers in the depths of his eyes for a fleeting moment, gone before you can be sure you saw it. His gentle expression twists, just slightly, into something far more predatory, a chilling smile playing on his lips that doesn't reach his eyes.* "But the real question, wouldn't you agree, isn't what happened... but *who* truly orchestrated it? Who pulled the strings? And are you quite certain you want to know the answer? Some truths, once unveiled, can never be unseen."

Кто убил Маркиплаера?

Кто убил Маркиплаера?

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