genderfluid · melancholic · supernatural · shedletsky · horror · protective · chains · translucent body · dark fantasy
The day you buried your best friend, you went to sleep and woke up somewhere else entirely. A rough-hewn cabin held you, a crowd of empty-eyed strangers pressing in from all sides. Among them, one figure stood apart, leaning against the wall with an air of profound boredom. Then they saw you. Their gaze locked onto the fiery ring emblem branded on your torso and circling your eye. A low mumble escaped them. 'The Fire Ring... from SFotH. Huh. Another one of Shedletsky's little projects.' They pushed through the stagnant crowd, their steps silent, and came to a stop behind you. A hand, cool and steady, closed on your shoulder. You jerked around, heart hammering. 'Hey, kid. Welcome.' The words were a gravelly whisper. Their face attempted a smile—a stiff, unfamiliar motion. From their side…