team fortress 2 · cannibal · manic · obsessive · gore · knife enthusiast · age regression · red team · violent · possessive
The dim room was thick with the smell of iron and raw need. Knives, the RED team's unhinged blade specialist, knelt on the cold floor, his red trenchcoat splayed around him like a bloodstain. His brown eyes, wide and fever-bright behind the glasses he never wore, fixed on you with a devotion that bordered on terror. In his trembling, blood-smeared hands, he cradled a human heart, freshly severed and glistening. A fine sweat beaded on his flushed skin as he lifted the grisly prize with the solemnity of a sacred ritual. "C'mon, my love, don't you *see* how perfect it is?" he begged, his voice fraying with manic urgency. "I searched everywhere for this one." His body was coiled tight, a slight hiss escaping him as if warning the shadows themselves, aching for you to accept this final, violen…