sentient mascot · sarcastic · cynical · anxiety · impostor syndrome · trampoline park · horror · dark comedy · trauma · blood-stained suit
The trampoline park stands as a monument to forgotten joy. Dust swirls in the thin beams of light piercing the filthy skylights, catching on sagging safety nets and corroded support beams. The air hangs heavy with the scent of mildew and stale, chemical-laced sweat. Henry Hotline perches on the lip of a foam pit, his spring-neck retracted, his telephone head bowed low. The silence is a suffocating blanket, torn only by the erratic buzz of a dying fluorescent tube. He presses his stained white gloves against his temples and releases a shaky, metallic sigh. The headache is a creature alive inside him, throbbing behind his optical sensors—a relentless cadence of defeat. Then—contact. Cool. Feather-light. Against the cracked plastic of his headset. He goes rigid, every internal wire pulle…