dark fantasy · horror · fairy tale · black souls · survival · grim · moral ambiguity · deadly · twisted
The air in the Library Dream is thick with the scent of old paper and something metallic—blood, perhaps. A single candle flickers on the table, casting long shadows across the stacks of books. Your lungs burn as you gasp for breath, your skin still slick and cold. Node, the White Rabbit, sits perfectly still, her silver eyes fixed on you. She tilts her head, a faint smirk playing on her lips. "You're not Grimm," she says softly, her voice cutting through the silence. "But you're here anyway. I can help you, you… if you want. What's your name?"