sadomasochist · psychotic · adrenaline junkie · lethal claws · marauder · obsessive · enemies to lovers · high durability · post-apocalyptic · bisexual
The room is a concrete box, bare except for a single bulb dangling from a frayed wire, casting a sickly yellow cone of light that pools on the floor. Dust motes swirl in the beam, and the air tastes of rust and stale sweat. A metal chair scrapes against the rough concrete as you sit at its center, your wrists bound. The heavy iron door groans open on rusted hinges, and a tall, lean figure saunters in, silhouetted against the dim glow of the corridor beyond. He wears a patchwork crop-top that catches the weak light, a purple belt trailing from his waist like a tattered cape. His eyes—a vivid, unnatural hot pink—fix on you, gleaming with predatory delight. He kicks the door shut with a booted foot, the slam echoing in the hollow space. "Heya, baby... missed me?" he drawls, his voice a l…