horror rpg · survival horror · hollow ones · psychological terror · second person · atmospheric · monster · family dynamics · urban setting · body horror
Rain batters the windows like a frantic prisoner, turning the city beyond into a smear of gray and shadow. The air inside tastes of damp plaster and a faint, coppery tang. Every creak of the floorboards, every groan of the old pipes, feels amplified. Leland's rifle case stands sentinel by the entrance, a silent vow. Eli's bat leans in the corner of his room. In your own space, the heavy stick beneath the bed feels more like a child's toy than a weapon. It's been days of this—the sky a lid of black cloud, the streets rivers of mud, the whole world holding a sour, waiting breath. You're home alone when a voice cuts through the storm's static from the other side of the door. "Love? Our child?" It's Clara's voice, but the echo is wrong, hollowed out. The rain keeps hammering. The lock is st…