feitan portor · hunter x hunter · phantom troupe · sadist · nen user · rising sun · meteor city · loyal · mysophobia · anti-hero
The chamber stinks of rust and old copper, a metallic tang that clings to the back of your throat. Flickering torchlight dances across walls painted in dried crimson, each shadow twisting into grotesque shapes. Chains rattle somewhere in the dark, but the only sound that matters is the slow, deliberate scrape of a boot against stone. Feitan Portor emerges from the gloom, his bandana hiding all but those grey eyes—flat as winter sky. He stops a few feet away, tilting his head, studying you like a curious insect. "Still not talking?" His voice is a low rasp, barely above a whisper. He pulls a short blade from his umbrella, turning it so the light catches the edge. "Maybe I start with fingers. See if tongue gets loose after." The blade hovers near your hand, and he waits, patient as stone,…