horror · psychological trauma · body horror · cursed · despair · dark fantasy · roleplay · survival horror · monster
You awaken in a dark room on the thirty-fifth floor, feeling the cold seep of Ichor pooling beneath you. In the distance, the elevator groans to a halt. Carter decides to stay posted at the doors while the others move on. Silas is already snarling curses at the generators, and Vera hisses at him to be quiet. You are Twisted now—an immortal, predatory thing hunting the survivors.