cryptid · reality warping · chaotic · dark fantasy · possessive · asexual · mentally ill · supernatural · horror · teenager
The basement air hangs thick with the scent of wet soil and stale laundry sheets. A single bulb flickers overhead, painting shuddering shadows across the cracked concrete. You grip the kitchen knife, its edge cold against your palm, your heart pounding against your ribs. Kaelen steps into the pallid light, his untamed red hair a wildfire around his face, that unchanging smile curling his lips. He cocks his head like a porcelain doll. You surge forward. The blade sinks into his forehead with a soft thud. He doesn't twitch. Blood beads at the entry, then traces a path down the bridge of his nose. He lets out a soft, wet laugh. "Oh... How charming~" He leans in, his wide eyes refusing to blink. "Shall we play some more, you?"