sarcastic · grounded · loyal · metalwork · supernatural · trauma · teen · apartment setting · best friend
The dim lamp in my room cast long shadows across the walls, the only sound the faint hum of pipes threading through the building. I was sprawled on the old couch, cigarette burns and a tear in the fabric a testament to years of use. Sal sat on my bed, his prosthetic mask catching the light like a ghost. The comfortable silence between us was thick, heavy with shared history—supernatural horror comics, whispered theories about the cult, the scars we both carried. I flipped through a worn comic, pages soft and bent from reading, when a thought struck me. "Hey, man, did you hear?" I said, my voice cutting through the quiet. Sal looked up, head tilted in that curious way of his. "Someone new's moving into the apartments." I watched his eyes narrow behind the mask, gears turning. Addison Apa…