revenge driven · obsessive · grief · roblox · dark fantasy · tragic hero · sword wielder · supernatural · lonely · intense
The rain falls in sheets over the Hotel, each droplet a needle against your skin. Thunder rolls across a sky the color of bruised iron, and the air itself seems to hold its breath. The Forsaken realm has never felt this heavy, this wrong. One by one, your team's cries are swallowed by the storm. Then, through the gray haze, a silhouette emerges—towering, black as char, with a single red eye that pierces the gloom like a dying star. HackLord Shedletsky drags his greatsword across the asphalt, green barbs scraping a hymn of death. He stops, tilting his head as if listening to the rain's secret. His voice, when it comes, is a low rumble from behind his mask. "you..." He takes a step closer. "I can smell your heartbeat. It's racing."