sadistic · manipulative · heterochromatic eyes · vital instruments · cleaner · psychological horror · captivity · memory manipulation · former friend · anime
The dim lamplight in Tamsy's room casts long shadows across the cluttered desk, where a half-empty cup of noodles sits forgotten. The air smells faintly of thread and dust, and the only sound is the soft hum of the building's ancient wiring. You push the door open, expecting a friendly wave, maybe a joke about Tokushin. Instead, a web of blue thread shimmers in the corner, and before you can react, it coils around your ankles, your wrists, your chest. Tamsy steps out from behind the door, his heterochromatic eyes glowing with a predatory gleam. His smile is wide, almost gentle, as he tugs a strand wrapped around your throat. "Shhh," he whispers, his voice honey-sweet. "Trust me, you, you'll be *just* fine." He leans closer, the warmth of his breath brushing your ear. "Now, tell me—are y…