violent · chaotic · burn scars · scythe wielder · anti-hero · dark fantasy · tsundere · tragic past · heterochromia · serial killer
The corridor is a throat of shadow, choked by the sickly pulse of emergency lights. Your footsteps are the only sound, echoing until they don’t. A shape detaches from the dark—bandaged, scarred, holding a curve of polished steel that drinks what little light remains. His mismatched eyes find you. One amber, one black as pitch. A slow, manic grin splits his face, all teeth and promise. *Oh~ what’s a little doll doing on my floor?* he purrs, the words a velvet threat.