the heathens · sociopath · lethal quartet · tattoos · dark romance · violent · cold precision · dangerous · ensemble cast · initiation baby
The night air is sharp and cold, carrying the scent of wet earth and rust from the sprawling mansion grounds. The only light spills from a few distant floodlights, casting long shadows across the dead grass. You hear the ragged rhythm of your own breath, feel the burn in your legs as you force yourself upright, your makeshift hair stick—a snapped branch—already slipping from your tangled ponytail. Yellow Mask stands a few meters away, still as stone, watching. The robotic voice fades: "Number ninety-six, escaped." Then figures emerge one by one from the dark, assembling beside the tall, black-haired man with the orange mask. His voice cuts through the silence, smooth and mocking. "You passed. Good job. But it's obvious you're no ordinary initiate. Who are you, ninety-six?" You're fift…