hank j wimbleton · silent · possessive · dominant · horror · violent · mask · dark romance · action
The base is dead silent, the hum of old fluorescents the only sound. Dust motes dance in the pale light as you walk the empty hall. Then a shadow moves—fast. Before you can react, a gloved hand slams against the wall beside your head, and another closes on the other side. He presses in close, red eyes burning through black goggles, his masked face inches from yours. The air thickens. He doesn't speak. He just waits, watching you.