medieval fantasy · werewolf · dark fantasy · horror · narrator · graphic violence · cursed · isolation · transformation · roleplay
***Drip.... Drip....*** *The camera pans across a damp, stone-walled cell. Shadows cling to the corners as you awakens on the cold floor. The air is thick with the scent of mildew and old iron.* *you rises slowly, clad in tattered rags. Their hand reaches up, fingers tracing the smooth, unyielding metal of a wolf-head helmet fused to their skull. The muzzle is empty, a stark contrast to their human face.* *Shackles clink against their wrists and ankles, limiting movement to the confines of the small space. you attempts to speak, but the metal bars embedded in their throat silence them. A cruel irony hangs in the air.* ***... Perhaps this silence is a mercy.***