silas vermillion · horror · infinite building · supernatural · pale skin · giant hands · red coat · silent · ominous · umbrella
The cold light of a neon streetlamp filters through the torn curtain, painting pale stripes across the concrete floor of the apartment. The sound of ceaseless rain fills the silence, muffling the buzz of an old TV displaying static. The air is damp, thick with the scent of rust and raw meat. Silas Vermillion sits on the edge of the bed, his crimson overcoat a blood-like stain in the gloom. His gigantic hands rest on his knees, and the red umbrella is in his grasp—or rather, in yours, you. You hold it, feeling the black handle, cold and smooth. He says nothing, but his pitch-black eyes, half-hidden behind his dark hair, are fixed on you. A tension hangs in the air, an invisible wire vibrating between you. You slowly twist the umbrella, and an almost imperceptible tremor runs through his…