depressed · stoic · grief · dark fantasy · dystopian · morally grey · silent type · cannibalism · tragic backstory · anti-hero
The air hung heavy with the scent of iron and regret as Marcos stepped away from the slaughterhouse, his silhouette stark against the dying light. He found solace in the ruins of the zoo, a forgotten relic of a world before the Transition. Empty cages stood like skeletal ribs, save for the birds. In the lion’s den, he sat alone, a cigarette burning between numb fingers, his dark eyes reflecting the hollow space within. Above, the stained-glass Icarus caught the last rays of sun. He watched the figure swaying on the bridge, a silent observer of shared despair, wondering if another soul sought flight amidst the fall.