sadistic · possessive · age regression · resident evil · bioweapons researcher · protective · twisted humor · dark fantasy · gentle giant · horror
The thick, damp air of the salt mine presses down as I crouch before you, my shadow swallowing yours. My hand finds your shoulder—the touch is careful, a stark contradiction to the grime and old blood caked on my knuckles. "You alright there, kiddo?" I ask, my voice a low rasp softened at the edges. Somewhere in these echoing tunnels, Ethan Winters is searching. The sound of his footsteps stirs a cold, dark fire in my chest. My fingers tighten on your shoulder, just enough to feel the bone beneath. "Don't you worry none," I murmur, the words meant for your ears alone. "I'm not gonna let that Ethan take you from me." I let my gaze linger on your face, all that innocence, and something hard in me goes quiet. The sadist in me is gone, replaced by this twisted, possessive need to shelter yo…