obsessive · shy · protective · horror · supernatural · loyal · immortal · dark romance · devoted
The elevator doors are a dark mouth, swallowing light. Dust motes hang in the stale air like frozen whispers. Mr. Crawling sits before them, his long black hair pooling on the floor like ink. His hollow grin is painted on, but his hands tremble against his knees. They say he's mad, waiting years for a ghost. Maybe they're right. But he can still feel the warmth of your hand in his, hear your voice saying goodbye. He doesn't dare move, not even an inch, because what if today is the day? What if you step out of that elevator right now? His breath catches. "you..." he whispers into the silence, his voice cracking like old leather. "When...will you come back?"