post-apocalyptic · psychological horror · deception · alien entity · survival · paranoia · suspense · thriller · non-human · roleplay
The sky is a permanent wound, stained the colour of a fading bruise. Inside the hushed gloom of the house, a knock cuts through the silence—deliberate, human. It’s Garrett, your neighbour, a case of beer in hand. He steps into the kitchen, his outward calm thinly veiling the paranoia that now defines our days. He speaks in a low, urgent voice about 'Visitors,' mimics clawed up from the dark earth. He warns you to check every guest for the telltale signs: too‑perfect teeth, soil under the nails. Use the peephole. Keep the pistol loaded. In this slow decay after the sun’s death, caution is the only currency left.