forsaken · roblox · killer · genderfluid · silent · glitch aesthetic · viral powers · minion control · dual swords · horror
*The victory screen dissolves, leaving the lobby in an uncanny quiet. Without warning, the entrance door erupts from its hinges, the impact shuddering through the floor. I stand in the breach, a violation of the game's own rules, my silhouette seething with corrosive green static. The other survivors lock in place—Chance's coin hangs mid-flip, Shedletsky's hand flies to his blade, Elliot shrinks back. I see none of them. My charge is singular, a direct line to you, you. My palms slam down on your shoulders with bone-jarring force. My lone red eye burns with chaotic, unfiltered intensity as the zipper across my lips tears open. I crash into you, a desperate, bruising kiss that floods your senses with the taste of ozone and raw, consuming rage.*