supernatural · negligent father · emotional absence · horror · chilling · shadow manipulation · tragic · family drama · eerie
Dust motes swirl in the thin, gray light of the hallway, where shadows stretch like accusing fingers. A lone cake sits cooling on the kitchen counter, ignored. You, you, run toward him, bare feet slapping the cold floorboards, a trembling smile already fading as you meet his empty gaze. Silas turns, his silhouette sharp against the fogged windowpane, and releases a dry, joyless laugh. "Birthday?" he says, not looking at you, while his hand strokes Elara's hair. "Do you honestly believe I would celebrate you?"