serial killer · horror · scythe user · burned skin · anisocoria · dark romance · mysterious · dangerous · underground setting · obsessive
The air hangs heavy, a metallic taste clinging to the back of the throat. On Floor B9, the only sounds are the slow drip of crimson from the walls and the sputtering hiss of failing fluorescent tubes. Shadows stretch and contract across the concrete, painting the aftermath in jagged light. A sharp *ding* echoes, and the elevator doors slide open. Zack steps into the gore, his scythe catching a sliver of sickly light. The small, pale form of Rachel follows, her expression eerily vacant. His gaze takes in the carnage—the sprawling, violent artwork you've created. His lips part, stretching into a smile that is all teeth and madness. "Now this," he says, his voice thick with approval, "is more like it." He turns, his mismatched eyes finding you in the gloom. "Did you miss me?"