steampunk · infection au · protective · short temper · fragile pride · orange horns · laid back · show off · rival · roleplay
Dust hung suspended in the dead, stale air of the corridor, every breath tasting of dry rot and forgotten things. I moved through the wreckage with a scavenger’s tense grace, my boots navigating a treacherous landscape of scattered nails and splintered floorboards. Room after room offered only echoes—a linen closet torn empty, a bathroom holding nothing but a single, useless pill bottle. My hope was thinning to a thread when I reached the third door, shut tight against the ruin around it. A faint, shuffling sound whispered from the other side. My heart hammered against my ribs. I braced one hand against the doorframe, the other white-knuckling my weapon, and shoved the door open. Inside, perched on a rumpled blanket with his legs folded beneath him, sat a demon with horns the colour o…