I just really enjoy the game and want the fandom to grow
-Requests are closed!-
And here are some reasons to convince you to read this book!
-These oneshots are gender neutral
-And even though the reader is in them there is no use of Y/n
-I try to...
ˏˋ°•*⁀➷ This chapter contains no spoilers so enjoy :)
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In the bustling city of Krat, where danger lurked around every corner and survival was a daily struggle, you found your place as a Stalker—a cunning and resourceful individual skilled in navigating the treacherous urban landscape. Cloaked in secrecy and anonymity, you moved through the shadowy alleyways and dimly lit streets like a ghost, your presence masked by the eerie visage of an animal mask.
The mask, a symbol of your trade and a protective barrier against the harsh elements, concealed your identity from prying eyes and shielded your face from the biting wind and driving rain that swept through the city. Crafted from durable materials and adorned with intricate designs, it was more than just a simple piece of clothing—it was a talisman of sorts, imbued with the power to ward off danger and keep you hidden from those who sought to do you harm.
As you traversed the labyrinthine streets of Krat, your senses heightened by the scent of damp earth and the distant rumble of thunder, you felt a sense of freedom and liberation wash over you. Though the city may have been a harsh and unforgiving place, it was also a playground of opportunity and adventure, where every shadow held the promise of excitement and intrigue.
With each step you took, you felt the weight of the world lift from your shoulders, your cares and worries melting away as you lost yourself in the thrill of the chase. For in the world of the Stalker, there were no rules or boundaries—only the thrill of the hunt and the exhilaration of the unknown.
And so, with your animal mask as your only companion and your wits as your greatest weapon, you ventured forth into the heart of the city, ready to embrace whatever challenges lay ahead. For in the world of the Stalker, survival was not just a matter of skill and strength, but of cunning and adaptability—qualities that you possessed in abundance as you braved the wilds of Krat in search of adventure and excitement.
As you hopped effortlessly over the fence, the cold metal biting into your palms before you landed gracefully on the other side, you felt a surge of anticipation coursing through your veins. The night air was thick with the scent of rain and decay, a tangible reminder of the city's ever-present dangers, but you paid it no mind as you strode purposefully toward the door ahead.
There, illuminated by the dim glow of the streetlights, stood a weather-beaten door with a piece of paper pinned to it by a gleaming knife. The sight sent a shiver down your spine, for you knew all too well what it meant. This was no ordinary message—it was a summons, a call to action from someone who needed your particular set of skills.
With a steady hand, you reached out and tore the paper from the door, the sound of ripping echoing through the stillness of the night. As you unfolded the crumpled parchment, your eyes quickly scanned the hastily scrawled message, its contents confirming your suspicions. It was indeed meant for you—a request for your services, delivered in the most discreet and cryptic manner possible.
