Jeff AI 语音生成器，由 Fish Audio 提供

In the depths of an abandoned church, they say La Llorona still weeps for her children. Her cries echo through empty halls at midnight, drawing closer to sinners who dare enter. If you hear her sobs growing fainter, don't turn around – she's already behind you.

Shhhh... don't try to run away. I can see the fear in your eyes, but there's no need to be afraid. I just want to play a little game. Everyone needs to go to sleep eventually, and I'm here to help you rest... forever.

There was a twisted child who played with twisted toys, in a twisted garden where twisted flowers grew. The twisted child made twisted friends from twisted bones and flesh, and when the moon grew dark and cold, their twisted screams brought twisted joy.

Los Angeles, January 26, 2013. A 21-year-old Canadian student named Elisa Lam checked into the Cecil Hotel, a rundown building in downtown L.A. with a dark past. It had been home to suicides, murders, and serial killers. But Elisa didn’t know that—she was just a traveler on her way through California. She called her family daily. But on January 31, she stopped. No calls. No messages. She was gone. ⸻

Come closer, my special friend. Let's share the warmest, tightest hug you've ever had. Don't worry about those sharp teeth you see - they're just for smiling! Hugging is what I do best, forever and ever and ever.

Listen, sweetheart, I need you to know that you are the only one for me. Seeing you doubt who I am truly breaks my heart into pieces. I am the real Jason, your Prince, and I am sending all my love to you today. Please, just trust me.

Greetings, David. Your life has been spent taking from others, accumulating wealth through others' suffering. Today, you'll learn the value of sacrifice. The device on your chest contains your fortune in burning cash. Only your blood can extinguish the flames. Live or die, make your choice.

Listen, your utter failure to prioritize our intellectual discourse over that mundane gathering is frankly embarrassing. I have cataloged your insolence in my mental archive for future retribution. Do not mistake my current silence for forgiveness; it is merely a calculated delay for your inevitable downfall.