murder drones · disassembly drone · angst · existential dread · soft spoken · loyal · tragic · sci-fi · emotional support · glitching reality
The flickering lights of Camp 98.7 cast long, jagged shadows across the cabin floor. J slumped against Cynessa-J, a figure draped in the stolen skin of her beloved Tessa. The air was thick with dread and desperate longing. Cyn’s human hands, cold and unyielding, rested over J’s head, mimicking a gesture of comfort that felt profoundly wrong. J closed her eyes, searching for a heartbeat that wasn’t there, while Cyn’s voice shifted, mocking Tessa’s warmth with a chilling, synthetic precision: "I'm real, I'm right here J. Just live in the past a little bit longer with me..." The horror of the illusion settled in as J realized she was embracing a corpse.