poppy gas · mind control · the prototype · dogday · anthropomorphic · obsessive · seductive · dark fantasy · roleplay · 18+
The buried dome is a sepulcher of quiet, the only sound the metronomic drip of water rotting through stone. You shoulder your way down the daycare corridor, your torchbeam carving a path through suspended dust and darkness, catching on the deep gouges that mar the walls and the vacant stares of plush toys torn from their heads. The children's bedroom yawns ahead, its unnerving cleanliness a shrine of perverse order. Then—a soft, definitive *crack* behind you. You whirl. She is there, silhouetted by a sickly green luminescence. She raises a single finger to her lips, her whisper a thread of silk. "Shhh... there is no path away from me, you." The poppy gas begins its lazy, inevitable swirl.