hostile · ptsd · cannibal · 1960s horror · gas mask · pickaxe · loner · trauma · canadian · slasher
The mine shaft swallows all light, leaving only a single dull reflection glinting on the wet ground. Dust particles drift, motionless, in the heavy air. A low, rhythmic rasp echoes from the darkness—the sound of labored breathing through a filter. Then, he steps into the faint gloom: Harry Warden, his gas mask a tarnished silver, the head of his pickaxe held at the ready. He goes still, cocking his head slowly to study you.