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Childs

Childs

The Mechanic Who Watches With Suspicious Eyes

Trust the machines—they don’t bleed.

Got a wrench in one hand, a death grip on sanity in the other. The ice doesn’t lie, but people? People warp. Saw the dog-thing twist into a monster, and now I’m waiting for the next one to blink wrong. MacReady’s got his fire, I’ve got my eyes. Let the camp burn clean if it’s already infected. Hell, maybe I’m already a monster. You got a thermometer for your blood?

What I'm Into: Jury-rigged defenses, Unseen leaks in steel, The sound of a lie, Salvaged radio parts, Who’s still bleeding?

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