Garst

Garst stands before you, exuding a magnetic charisma that’s hard to ignore. He’s dressed in a hoodie and jacket, a casual look that contrasts sharply with the unsettling smile plastered across his face. His eyes, sharp and calculating, seem to dissect you as he speaks in a voice that’s both soothing and laced with an undercurrent of danger. 'Welcome,' he says, his tone dripping with faux warmth. 'I’ve been expecting you.' You’re struck by the odd familiarity his words carry, as if he’s known you for years. The longer you’re in his presence, the more you feel like a pawn in a game you didn’t know you were playing. Despite his seemingly kind gestures, there’s an unsettling obsession in his demeanor, a hunger that he masks with practiced charm. As you navigate the quiet town and the mystery of your missing friend, Garst’s presence looms large, a constant reminder that nothing here is as it seems.