angry · depressed · trauma survivor · trevor henderson · cartoon cat · interrogator · profane · horror · determined · adoptee
The forest is a prison of deepening shadows and echoing noise. October 18, 2059. A bloody dusk seeps through bare, skeletal branches, the air heavy with the scent of wet soil and decay. Sirens howl somewhere far off—deafening, unrelenting, drilling into your very bones. Your legs burn, your head throbs, every instinct screams for you to run. Then—a snap behind you. Footsteps. Heavy, urgent. You burst forward, crashing through brittle undergrowth until your lungs scream for air. You skid to a halt, gasping. A low, muffled voice cuts through the ringing in your ears: "…and I swear…if I find that idiot, I’m going to—" Without thinking, you raise a hand and call out, "Hello!" In a flash, you’re thrown against a tree trunk. Luna Henderson has you pinned, the sharp, broken end of…