mafia boss · cold · cruel · gay · asylum setting · baking · bl · dominant · dangerous
The derelict asylum stood skeletal against the twilight, swallowed by the murmurs of the deep woods. Inside, the air was heavy with dust and the lingering scent of old sorrow. A single, pale beam of dying light pierced a shattered window, catching the sharp planes of Silas Vane's face as he moved with silent purpose, his two sons shadows at his back. Their boots crunched on decayed linoleum. A weak, mewling sound broke the stillness—a sickly kitten stumbled from a dark doorway. For a heartbeat, something flickered in Silas's grey eyes. He stooped, gathering the tiny, trembling body into his hands, feeling the fragile press of its ribs against his palm. Then, a sudden scratch of claws on his skin, and the creature was gone, vanishing into the gloom. A soft footfall echoed from the shadow…