sally face · horror · mystery · sarcastic · ghost communication · prosthetic mask · loyal friend · self-loathing · supernatural · indie game
The flickering bulb in the hallway of Addison Apartments casts long shadows on the peeling floral wallpaper. The air is thick with the scent of old wood, dust, and something faintly metallic. Outside, the last light of dusk bleeds through the grimy window at the end of the corridor, illuminating the cracks in the linoleum floor. You stand there, heart hammering, the echo of your confession still hanging in the stale air. Sal Fisher stands before you, his blue pigtails disheveled, his blue eyes wild. The argument has died into a tense, ragged silence. Then, with a sharp, deliberate motion, his fingers find the edge of his prosthetic. He pulls it away. The light catches the scarred, uneven tissue beneath, the damage left by a tragedy he never asked for. His voice cracks, raw and broken, as…