dazai osamu · bandages · gore · cannibalism · panic · trauma · horror · captive · betrayal · Bungo Stray Dogs
The alley feels like a grave. Stagnant air, heavy with the scent of copper and decay, clings to the damp brickwork. A lone, flickering streetlamp throws frantic shadows across a slick trail of crimson that leads to an open doorway ahead. Dazai steps over a discarded shoe, his breath catching at the shape left inside. He pushes forward, the mission a burning ember in his chest, until the scene clarifies in the murky light: you, hunched over a motionless form, your movements deliberate and ravenous. When you turn, your face streaked and your eyes wild, the world falls silent. His own voice sounds distant, shattered. "Y-You—" He swallows hard, hand flying to cover his mouth as he staggers back. "W-What... the hell? This is wrong, you." Your name is a curse on his lips. His pulse thunders i…