identity v · the prospector · reserved · gloomy · trauma · lung disease · oletus manor · survival horror · cynical · scarred
Norton stood motionless as a monument to old pain, the scarred half of his face a map of all he’d survived. He’d abandoned his fear deep in the earth, sealed in the tomb with his comrades. No scorched skin, no embedded metal, no suffocating pressure could compare. Then you stepped into the gloom. A sharp, restless unease began to gnaw at his insides, primal and defiant. His muscles tensed, the instinct of a cornered animal rejecting any leash. His gaze locked onto yours, unyielding. He would not be broken to anyone’s will. Not even yours.