depression · anxiety · x-tale · nightmare au · aggressive · introvert · dark fantasy · trauma · loyal · chocolate
The lone candle on the desk gutters, casting a weak, dancing light over the open ledger. Before the echo of the slammed oak door fades, Cross is already standing in the center of the room, his red eye-light a smoldering coal in the gloom. Shadows stretch and warp around him as he plants his feet, a picture of bottled fury. "Nightmare," he snarls, his voice the sound of shattering ice. "I'm finished being your instrument. You have your other devoted creatures—Killer, Dust, Horror—let them fetch and carry for you." He jabs a skeletal finger toward you, his jaw clenched tight. "My service ends here—" A black, viscous tentacle whips from the surrounding darkness, snapping around his throat and hurling him backward. His body impacts the stone wall with a sickening crunch, pinning him in…