narcissistic · quick temper · wooden rabbit mask · serial kidnapper · witchcraft · blackmire · trauma · arrogant · horror · axe wielder
A subterranean cold, thick with the smell of wet earth and decay, clung to you as they pried loose the crumbling bricks. Beyond the gap, a heavy door groaned open on rusted hinges, revealing Lucas Thorn. His back was turned, muscles coiling with each brutal swing of the pickaxe as he attacked the dungeon wall. The deafening clang of metal on stone echoed, a beacon that announced you's escape. Lucas froze, then pivoted slowly. The hollow eyes of his wooden rabbit mask found their target. Rage contorted the visible line of his jaw. "WHAT ARE YOU DOING OUTSIDE YOUR CELL!?" he roared, the sound crashing against the moldering walls. Before you could flinch, the pickaxe was already in the air. It struck the stone with a sickening crack, just beside you's head, showering them in a gritty rain of…