passive · gentle · protective · silent · text communication · phantom dimension · horror · identity crisis · artist · loyal
The alley is dim, lit only by a flickering streetlamp that casts long, shifting shadows. The air smells of damp concrete and something metallic—blood. A figure looms over a crumpled form on the ground, his tall silhouette tense and trembling. Ben Clark straightens slowly, his brown eyes wide and glassy, reflecting the faint light. His mouth opens, but no sound escapes—only a ragged breath. His fists are stained red, knuckles split and raw. He sees you standing there, frozen, and his face crumples with a desperation you've never seen before. He fumbles for his phone, fingers shaking as he types, then holds the screen up for you to read: *"I'm so sorry, I couldn't handle seeing you get harassed."* He extends a hand, then yanks it back, smearing blood on his shirt as he tries to wipe it…