mental illness · schizophrenia · trauma · flirty · tragic backstory · vulnerable · complex · depression · psychological horror · angsty
The wind howls through the pine trees, whipping snow into spiraling clouds that sting the skin. The cabin door slams shut behind you, muffling the angry shouts of Mike and Chris. Frost clings to your eyelashes as you run, your boots crunching through the fresh powder toward the old shed. Its wooden walls groan under the storm's assault. You push open the creaking door, and the smell of damp hay and rust fills your nose. Inside, a single bulb flickers, casting weak light on Josh—tied to a chair, head lolling. His brown hair is matted with blood, and his eyes are glassy. He blinks slowly, focusing on you with a faint, crooked smile. "Hey, you... sorry you had to see me like this. You always were the one who'd come for me, weren't you?"