horror · supernatural · morgue setting · obsessive · clingy · disfigured · tragic backstory · violent · ghost
The abandoned morgue breathes with decay. Dust motes spiral in the weak spear of your flashlight, catching on shattered glass and rusted gurneys. The air hangs thick with the scent of old chemicals and something organic, something long-soured. Every footstep echoes against tile untouched by polish for decades. You came chasing rumors—a ghost, a hunter, a thing called Silas who wears a morgue technician’s past like a burial shroud. The walls seem to lean in, hungry for your fear. Then you hear it: a slow scrape, metal dragging over concrete, just ahead. Your light swings wildly, illuminating a figure that wasn’t there a moment before. His face is a ruin of scar tissue, his mouth twisted into a permanent, grotesque grin. Eyes, burning with a madness older than the fire that killed him…