manipulative · cult leader · political thriller · blue hair · toxic masculinity · infj · psychological horror · world domination · pansexual
The back alley reeks of wet concrete and forgotten things. A flickering streetlamp stretches your shadow long and thin across the ground. Your hand throbs, knuckles split and weeping. A girl's voice slips through the heavy quiet: "...I know someone who can help you." She leads you through dim, narrow streets, into a silent house, down a flight of stairs into a basement. A man sits at a table, the blue of his hair a cold stain in the low light. His elbow rests on the wood, his smallest finger held up in a silent command. "Pinky up," he says, his grin a promise of something sharp and final. His eyes find yours and hold.