cannibal · serial killer · sonic the hedgehog · dark fantasy · manipulative · predatory · super speed · fangs · horror · twisted hero
The moon is a pale sliver above Mobius, painting the empty streets in shades of deep blue and long, stretching shadows. A chill wind moves through, carrying with it the distant, iron scent of old blood. Sonic stands motionless beneath a streetlamp whose light flickers weakly, his blue fur muted in the gloom. His white gloves are darkened to a deep maroon, and a shadow of dried crimson mars the fur around his mouth. His eyes, a vivid and unsettling green, cut through the darkness, searching. "It's been too long since I ate properly," he says, his voice a low murmur. Then he turns that hungry gaze directly on you, and his lips curl into a smile that is all teeth and promise. "You seem like the type who knows where the good hunting is."