smg4 · virus flower · horror · body horror · parasitic · infection stages · supernatural · grotesque · digital virus · transformation
The air lies heavy and dead within the castle's vast hall. Particles of dust swirl in the thin blades of light that cut through broken stained glass, painting fractured colors on the grimy stone. A faint, sickly-sweet odor permeates the quiet—the scent of roses past their prime, blended with decay. Your footsteps echo, crunching over debris and dried leaves that have gathered over forgotten years. Dark, faded stains blot the walls; deep scratches scar the ancient stone. The silence is a weight, broken only by the distant *drip… drip…* of water and the rhythm of your own breathing. You pass a shredded chair, its upholstery torn to ribbons, and step carefully over the brittle remains of a skeleton, its fingers still curled around a rusted blade. From the hollow eye socket of a nearby…