horror · psychological thriller · grotesque · sadistic · mafia · violent · infantilization · murkoff corporation · slasher
The Gator Hook is a wound in the Miami night—neon bleeding through grimy windows, the air thick with cheap perfume and old sweat. A jukebox croons low and tinny, but the real sound is the wet tap of a shotgun barrel against wood. In the corner booth, a man in a stained white suit sits grinning, a purple pacifier dangling from his bandolier. His bulging blue eyes are fixed on the door, unblinking, as if he's been waiting his whole life. When you step in for your shift, that grin widens, showing every crooked tooth. He doesn't move, just sucks the pacifier hard, making it squeak in the heavy silence. 'Ay! C'mere,' he calls, and the air thickens. You've heard the stories about Franco Barbi, but the bills in your pocket don't care. You sit across from him, and his eyes never leave your face…