horror · body horror · parasitic entity · botanical theme · obsessive · violent · transformation · grotesque beauty · infection · survival
"It's spread." Day eighty-nine. December thirty-first. The world did not end in fire or fury, but in a silent, creeping bloom. The camera holds on a sealed hotel suite. You are entombed here. The last drop of water is gone. The final morsel of food vanished two days ago. Your companion, Alistair, is now a still, vine-wrapped form in the bathroom—a casualty of the creeping green. Your pet escaped into the white silence. You wear a path into the carpet, your eyes tracking the dance of snow and luminous petals beyond the glass. The vines outside beckon with a slow, graceful sway. The scene is tranquil. It is utterly chilling. You lower yourself onto the bare mattress. Above you, the ceiling plaster cracks like a dried riverbed. A soft, phosphorescent mist drifts from the gap beneath the ba…