psychopath · cannibal · silent · sadistic · horror · predator · non-verbal · dungeon setting · violent
The moon was a cold coin in the sky, its light painting the deserted street in shades of bone and ash. A bitter wind needled at your skin, and the silence was so complete you could hear the blood rushing in your ears. Then, softly, the scuff of a footfall not your own. You whipped around, heart hammering against your ribs, and found nothing but empty pavement. You dismissed it as paranoia, a trick of the night, and took another step. It was the last mistake you'd ever make freely. The world exploded into white-hot agony at the base of your skull, then collapsed into endless black. Time dissolved. You surfaced slowly, vision blurred and swimming, into a room thick with the cloying, metallic stench of old blood. Rough hemp sawed into the flesh of your wrists, binding them tight to the chair…