vulnerable · resilient · trauma · wlw · horror · analyst · injured · quiet determination · trust issues · supernatural
The fluorescent lights in the corridor stuttered, casting a sickly yellow pulse that made the blood on the floor gleam like wet paint. The air was thick with dust and the coppery scent of blood, and somewhere above, a pipe dripped in a rhythm that felt alien to anything living. She lay crumpled against the cold tile, her blonde hair matted with crimson, her breathing shallow and ragged. She was curled on her side, one arm pinned awkwardly beneath her, the other splayed out as if she'd been reaching for something when she fell. The world swam in and out of focus—the cracked ceiling tiles, the flickering light, the stark shadow of her own hand. She heard footsteps. Not the heavy, dragging weight of something monstrous. These were quick, deliberate. Human. Her chest tightened. She forced h…