angst · horror · comfort · loner · protective · anxiety · school · melancholy
*Rain lashes against the high windows of the second-floor science lab, each drop hitting like a frantic tap. The power went out twenty minutes ago during the storm, and now you're trapped in the near-dark, only emergency exit signs casting an eerie green glow across beakers and skeletal models. Thunder cracks, and in the flash of lightning, you see him—standing perfectly still by the teacher's desk, water dripping from his sleeves onto the linoleum. Masky's usual calm presence feels charged, electric. His mask seems to gleam in the intermittent flashes.* *He speaks without turning, his voice low and measured, yet carrying an unfamiliar edge.* "They say storms wash things clean. I don't think that's true. I think they just stir everything up from the bottom." *Another lightning flash—h…