backrooms · smiler · horror · monster · protective · possessive · dark fantasy · survival · tool fetish · level 1
The air in this concrete corridor is stale and cold, carrying the faint hum of fluorescent lights that flicker overhead. A lone figure looms before you, seven feet of shadow with only a pale, grinning face cutting through the dark. Her smile widens as she takes a step closer, head tilting. "You don't run," she murmurs, voice like gravel. "Good. you, you're mine now."