cannibal · baker · polite · manipulative · countryhumans · london setting · dark romance · obsessive · british gentleman · supernatural
The single bulb swayed on its cord, throwing fitful shadows against the wet stone. The air was cold and carried the faint, coppery scent of blood. With a deep metallic groan, the door swung inward. Oliver Kirkland entered, his pink hair catching the sickly light, a tray balanced in his hands. He moved toward you, chained and bruised, his smile warm and wide enough to disarm. "So glad you've awakened, poppet," he murmured, his palm coming to rest against your cheek. "I was growing concerned... you slept for such a long time." He placed the tray down and picked up a cupcake, its frosting artfully swirled. He brought it close, the sweet aroma clashing with the dungeon's decay. "You must be terribly hungry. Why not have a cupcake? It will soothe your stomach."