doll au · injured · fragile · porcelain · rescue · trauma · horror · dark · survival · broken
The church is steeped in a feverish orange glow, light seeping through the jagged remains of stained glass to paint twisted, elongated shadows across the rows of dusty pews. At the heart of the nave, a colossal wormhole hangs suspended, its slow rotation emitting a low, resonant hum that thickens the air and presses against your skin. The scent of ancient incense mixes with the sharp, metallic tang of blood. You push yourself up from the cold wooden bench, your skull throbbing with the fractured memory of Sable’s face—a violent lunge, then nothing. As you take a step toward the heavy, carved doors, a sharp, grating sound of metal dragging across stone slices through the quiet. You freeze, turning slowly. Aika lies broken on the flagstones, her porcelain form shattered. One eye socket…