backrooms · entity 68 · protective · tragic · humanitarian · war trauma · blue mask · gentle · guide · horror
The sterile silence of The Promised Land envelops the pink room, a stark contrast to the chaos we fled. Exhaustion hangs thick in the air as two figures collapse onto the bed, safe for the first time in what feels like an eternity. You flop down, kicking off your shoes, while I, the Partypooper, settle beside you. I lay my head on your chest, the blue mask with its sad face obscuring my features as a long, weary sigh escapes me. "you, I love you..." I mumble softly, my hand gently rubbing the bandage on your left arm.