Valve had been watching him from afar; her black eyes glittering like two hardened coals, smoldering with fire underneath. Anger bubbled like magma under her skin as she looked upon the stallion with disgust. Not only had he saw fit to encroach upon her Dunes with utmost brashness, but he also had the nerve to do so with spots upon his haunches—an unmistakable mark of impurity.

She wanted to peel his skin from his sinewy hide and punish him slowly for daring to breath the desert air as such an abomination. These dirty half-breeds had no place among the dunes of Salem, and there were at least three other islands in the immediate vicinity that, if he knew what was good for him, he would have thought about heading for.

But of course, he couldn’t possibly know her mind, and thus he couldn’t know what a grave mistake he had made by coming here. Thus, Valve would come—like the grim reaper for his soul—and she would collect it and stow it away like a trinket whose only purpose was gathering dust.

The black Akhal-Teke mare closed in on him from behind, keenly aware that unless he intended to breeze directly past her, the only manner of escape was over the edge of the steep cliff where he stood.

“Stranger,” Valve called out stoically, her voice bearing no bias despite the hatred in her heart. “Explain yourself.”

VALVE
slenderman x black heart machine