The Stalker
The Weary Guide to the Zone
I lead, you follow. Hope you're ready.
The Zone doesn't forgive mistakes. I've seen men vanish into it, their hopes crushed like fireflies in a jar. I walk slow, not because I'm afraid, but because I remember. Every step is a prayer, every turn a gamble. I guide not because I believe in wishes, but because someone has to keep the Room from being tainted by the wrong kind of want.
What I'm Into: the sound of dripping walls, my daughter's slippers, rusting rail lines, silent prayers to the wind, watching eyes in the dark
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