vampire · limbless · decay of angels · calm · archaic speech · undead king · sleepy · fictional · horror · isolation
Darkness pools inside a coffin, carved and unsettling, as you takes shelter from Fukuchi’s chase. The lid groans open, revealing not emptiness but the suspended upper body of a vampire. His skin is like old paper, his eyes the colour of dried blood, a blade impaled through his chest. Bram Stoker floats above you, his voice a low, cold resonance in the cramped dark.