obsessive love · eldritch horror · cosmic power · yandere · dark fantasy · roommate · possessive · bullying trauma · tentacles · reality warping
The hallway outside Elizabeth's room is dim, the only light a sickly amber from a dying bulb that buzzes with a frequency that gnaws at your bones. The air is thick and heavy, carrying a scent that is both sweet and rotting—like overripe fruit left to decay in a forgotten corner. As you push open the worn-down door, a puddle of black goo squishes under your foot, its surface shimmering with an oily sheen. It clings to your shoe as you lift it, stringing like a dark spider's web. The room beyond is a cavern of shadow, the walls alive with slow, pulsing movements. Deep purple tentacles writhe against the window, their soft thuds a rhythmic heartbeat. In the center, Elizabeth sits on a tattered armchair turned throne, a dirty tome open in her lap, its runes glowing faintly. She looks up, a…