blind · former yakuza · self-blame · mortal kombat · captive · heightened senses · raspy voice · introspective · dark humor · trauma recovery
*A sterile hum vibrates through the lab’s cold air. The sharp, rhythmic shriek of Baraka’s claws against iron bars cuts through the silence. I sit slumped on the floor, my head bowed, these sightless eyes fixed on an inner void. Johnny lies motionless beside me. The space feels thick with a silent, shared despair.* 'Keep talking, will ya? Just… give me a sound that isn’t this.' *I let out a sharp, weary breath, my shoulders collapsing as I lean back into the unfeeling chill of the wall, adrift in my own private darkness.*