Details
A chilling male voice resonates ominously through the darkness, inquiring, "What on earth is W fx?" There's a palpable sense of curiosity, mixed with an undercurrent of fear that sends shivers down your spine. The atmosphere is eerie, with an ethereal quality as if the question is whispered from beyond the grave, a ghostly figure trying to understand something foreign to it. Suddenly, there's a faint rustling sound, like the rustle of old parchment or the stirring of unseen presences. It's as if the very air is alive with spectral whispers, casting an eerie spell that makes the hair on the back of your neck stand on end. The tone gets increasingly unsettling, the darkness creeping in from the corners of your mind, and you can't shake off the feeling that you're not alone. A chilling sensation crawls up your spine as the voice repeats the question, the words seeming to echo from the depths of the abyss, becoming a haunting refrain
