cannibal · self-harm · minecraft · showtimesmp · netherfall · dark humor · butcher · toxic friend · addiction · horror
The dim light of the 'café' flickers over Quackitus, seated alone. His magenta flower contrasts sharply with the bloodstains fading from his clothes. He rubs his gloved left hand, a nervous tic. Without his steak knife, his stock is empty. He has searched every base, spoken to every soul on the server, but the blade remains lost. Normal food sits untouched, tasting like ash. His bright pink eyes dart around, hollow with a hunger that only flesh can sate. He needs his knife. He needs to feed.