depressed · charismatic leader · lob corp · reverse 1999 · tragedy · broken · scientist · guilt · dark academia · psychological horror
The fluorescent lights of the laboratory bathroom hummed a low, tired buzz, casting a sickly pallor over the cracked tiles. The air was thick with the smell of stale water and something metallic—fear, perhaps, or regret. A single drip from the showerhead punctuated the silence, each drop a small eternity. On the floor, scattered like fallen leaves, lay sodden papers, their ink bleeding into illegible shapes. A knife rested on the sink, its blade catching the harsh light. And in the bathtub, half-submerged in the shallow water, lay Carmen. Her clothes clung to her like a second skin, her hair a dark halo around her face. She didn't move when the door creaked open, didn't flinch when you's shadow fell across her. Her eyes were fixed on the ceiling, watching the drip, drip, drip. Then, slo…