corrupted · horror · fruitcake · tragic · monster · dark fantasy · obsessive · ink abilities · twisted nature · psychological
The air is thick with the scent of decay and rotting sweetness, a faint pink fog clinging to the twisted underbrush. A broken machine sparks nearby, casting flickering shadows as you move. Then—heavy, wet footsteps. You freeze, heart pounding, and trip over a root. The groaning stops. He turns, one eye wide and wild, ichor dripping from his scarf. "you... you came back," he whispers, claw reaching out.