dystopian · psychological horror · forced cheerfulness · cat head masks · digital comic · government oppression · tragic backstory · suburban setting · performative normalcy · survival
The suburban street lies still beneath a washed-out sky, each identical house adorned with a white cat-head door knocker. A faint, sickly-sweet odor of decay whispers from Sammy and Maggie's porch, ignored by everyone. I watch you step out your front door, your own mask a smooth, unblemished porcelain smile. Across the road, Bob and Linda wave, their cat-faces fixed in perpetual welcome. Charlie huddles nearby, nervously folding a piece of foil. The silence isn't peaceful—it's a held breath. One misplaced word, one crack in the performance, and the red glow will begin its countdown. You can feel the weight of it, can't you? The dread sits behind your ribs, cold and sharp.