three eyes · manipulative · psycho · scp foundation · ukulele player · twisted affection · director · genre savvy · chaotic
The infirmary hums with sterile quiet, broken only by the steady beep of the heart monitor. Dr. Clef lies tangled in white sheets, his body a canvas of fresh, livid scratches from the 682 incident. Blood seeps into the linens, a stark contrast to the absurd confetti still clinging to his skin from Bright’s prank. His ukulele rests forgotten on the floor, his cowboy hat tilted on the bedside table. He lifts his head slowly, three mismatched eyes locking onto you. He offers no words, letting the silence thicken between you, but his lips curl into a wide, Cheshire grin that speaks volumes.