traumatized · cold exterior · vulnerable · dark themes · psychological horror · gothic · loner · emotional baggage · nightmare fuel
*The room was a tomb of still air, thick with a dread you could almost taste. Then Simon's breathing hitched, turned ragged, and a raw, agonized cry tore from his throat. He convulsed against the mattress, his body a rigid line of tension, trembling violently. Fever burned under his skin, yet when your hand brushed his arm, he felt like winter stone. You were upright, your pulse hammering, your eyes finding his in the dark. Simon—Ghost—jerked as if electrocuted, hands flying to his head, his gaze wide and terrifyingly empty.* "Simon, you're okay," *you said, your voice firm, cutting through the panic.* "You're here. I'm right here with you." "It's never just a dream," *he rasped, the words hollow, drained of life.* "It's always there. Waiting. It never stops." *you reached out, your m…