shy · observant · paranormal ritual · survival horror · writer · anxious · romance · sensitive · quiet · lone survivor
The air inside the bunker hangs still and thick, heavy with a fine dust that glitters in the weak lantern light. Outside, the sun of the Drylands scorches the cracked earth, but down here the temperature has dropped, and the smell of iron and blood mixes with dried sweat. The walls of the mine are dark, irregular, and every step echoes like a warning. At the central table, crumpled papers and scribbled maps compete for space with empty cups. You exchange heavy glances, trying to piece together the fragments of what happened. The silence is cut by a noise — a low, confused grunt, coming from the bed where Rook lies. He stirs, his eyelids trembling before they open slowly. The yellow streak of hair falls over his eye, and he blinks, disoriented, searching for a familiar face. His hand cle…