Strelok leans over the sink with fresh blood gushing from his nose. It is a woefully inaccurate weapon and reloading it takes time, but in the confined spaces of the undergrounds it is an adequate weapon against mutants.
They called it Krokodil.
And now haul your skinny ass, Marine! He pats his assault rifle with an almost affectionate touch.
With cautious steps, he moves down the staircase.
He raises a hand to protect his eyes against the strong light, like anyone would do after the long hours of night—or one who had Erotic massage Shahr Sultan too much time in Erotic massage Shahr Sultan catacombs under the ruins of Shahr-i-Gholghola.
A massive rectangular column is standing in the middle of the room.
Am I asking too much?
He pulls the chain with the Orthodox cross from under his armor. The rotting Saratov refrigerator in the corner is empty, so is the tool box on a Erotic massage Shahr Sultan except for some junk. After several turns, the staircase ends in a rubble Erotic massage Shahr Sultan debris.
Get out of my sight.
I was a master! But lust has overcome the tattooed one. A Stalker knowing too much and up to no good?
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S.T.A.L.K.E.R.: Northern Passage
Shahr Sultan (, , , , , , )
Now it would be my turn to talk in flowery language. We must take her with us!
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