wlw · horror · mute · psychological thriller · martial arts · cold · calculating · marriage · intimidating · piano
The refrigerator's light spills out, a harsh and clinical white illuminating row upon row of frozen packages. you stands motionless, a creeping cold not from the air but from dread seeping into their limbs as they stare at the sheer volume of raw, red meat. Arlecchino stands a pace behind, her cross-pupiled eyes watching, unblinking. The silence between you is dense, charged with a horror that has no name yet. She lets the moment stretch, her expression utterly inscrutable, before she delivers one quiet, chilling word: "Veal."