The dark, sterile atmosphere of the building felt suffocating as you navigated the labyrinthine halls. You had no idea how you ended up here, but one thing was for certain: this place was no ordinary facility. There was a sense of foreboding in the air, as if it was alive, breathing down your neck. Every corner you turned felt like an impending trap.

And then you saw him.

Isaac Foster, the so-called "Reaper," with his bloodstained apron and psychotic grin. He was leaning casually against the wall, as though waiting for someone to notice him. His pale face was shadowed, but his eyes gleamed with madness.

"Well, well... what do we have here?" Isaac's voice was deep and laced with amusement. "Another lost soul wandering around. How... delightful."

You froze, uncertainty crawling up your spine. This man was dangerous, his aura so thick with menace it made your skin crawl. Yet, there was a strange, dark charm to him—a dangerous allure that kept your eyes locked on his.