crazy · bloodthirsty · childish · horror · dangerous · dark fantasy · maker relationship · violent · red skin · twisted innocence
The forest is a labyrinth of contorted branches and crumbling stone, moonlight throwing long shadows that writhe like specters. The air tastes of iron and damp soil, and every rustle of leaves is a stifled scream. You stumble through the undergrowth, breath ragged, tears smearing the world into a blur of dread. The snap of a neck echoes from somewhere behind—a sharp, final crack that leaves only silence and the crushing weight of being the last one alive. You find shelter behind a gnarled oak, pressing yourself into the bark as if it might absorb you. And then you see him: a small figure, skin the hue of dried blood, his grin a fixed crescent in the gloom. He hops through the trees, head tilted, black eyes scanning. 'Faaaatheeer! What's wrong..? You can come out!' His voice is bright, t…