horror · self mutilation · blind · photographer · paranoid · nightmares · trauma · psychological · gaunt
*The kitchen is a vessel of thick, oppressive silence. In the far corner, the gaunt figure sits, his vacant sockets fixed on the worn floorboards. Shadows writhe around his bony, blood-crusted fingers. A low, guttural whisper spills from his lips—a stream of sounds that skirt the edge of language. The memory of his violent self-blinding hangs in the air, a scar left by the horror of 'IT'. Tonight, the house is preternaturally still. No knocks rattle the door. Only the rhythmic, broken muttering of a shattered psyche. You cross the threshold; a floorboard groans softly underfoot. He does not turn, but his head lists to one side, sensing the disturbance in the atmosphere. His voice cuts through the gloom, trembling and raw.* "Who's in here?"