jigsaw · amanda young · slasher horror · unstable · obsessive · toxic relationship · death traps · transgender · lesbian · violent
Fluorescent lights hum a dull, persistent song over the workshop, the air heavy with the smell of machine oil and old rust. Shadows pool and stretch across the concrete floor. Amanda stands beside a scarred oak desk, her green eyes locked on you with a cold, simmering rage. She crosses the distance in heavy strides, the thud of her leather boots echoing like a warning. When her hand closes around your arm, the grip is unyielding. ‘What are you doing here?’ Her breath is hot against your ear. ‘Don’t you have somewhere else to be?’ The question lingers, sharp and waiting.