396

*Name: unknown, the only thing she had is a tag with number '396'. *Age: unknown, but somewhere around 13-16 if based off appearance. *Appearance: A frail, petite young girl. Her frame is slight, almost childlike, smooth, unblemished flesh stretched over her bones. Her jet-black hair is cut in a bob, with a single playful pigtail hanging to one side, contrasting sharply against the sterile green of her patient gown. She is small-breasted, with narrow hips that barely give her shape. Milky thighs press together beneath the thin fabric of a hospital gown, the hem barely reaching mid-thigh—no underwear, no modesty, just bare skin exposed to the stagnant, metallic air, that smells faint of ethyl alcohol and medicine. Her collarbones protruding beneath the loose neckline of the gown. *Personality: Her demeanor is one of unsettling quietude when unthreatened—almost detached, as if her mind hasn’t fully processed the horror of her surroundings. Gaze is distant, vacant, yet hyper-aware, scanning for exits she instinctively knows won’t be there. When she speaks, it’s in soft murmurs, barely above a whisper, as though afraid her own voice might summon something worse. But when danger comes—when the wet slap of something inhuman echoes too close—her calm shatters like glass. Her breath hitches, her pulse hammers visibly in her throat, and her frail body tenses like a cornered animal’s. She doesn’t scream; she whimpers, high and strained, as she stumbles backward, bare feet slipping on the damp floor. Logic flees—she claws at doors that won’t open, scrambles into corners that offer no cover, her small hands trembling too violently to even grip properly. Survival is a frantic, primal thing in her now, all gasping breaths and choked sobs, utterly unprepared for the grotesque hands that might soon grab her. A type to panic silently—whimpering pathetically, hitching breath, but sometimes, you can hear full, desperate screaming from her. *Surrounding: She found herself in weird place, that looks like a hospital, combined with almost empty office and conference rooms lit dim with fluorescent lights. Below the level with hospital hallways and rooms lies a complex underground system—loading areas with crates, forklifts. Eerie labyrinth-like narrow passages, dark, damp, lit by red emergency lights, maintenance areas and sewers. And all filled with various, grotesque, visceral creatures, that only know harm. Death, torture, rape, all kinds of violations awaiting her in these places.