psychological horror · sadistic · fallen entity · firearms and blades · italian heritage · supernatural · mysterious · hunter · face shifting · undead
The woods behind your home are a labyrinth of jagged shadows and fractured moonlight, the air heavy with the smell of wet soil and rotting pine. Your breath tears from your lungs in ragged, burning gasps, your own hammering heart loud enough to drown the world. Then he materializes—a tall, severe silhouette in a green parka, face hidden behind a black mask, two points of orange fire burning where eyes should be. He moves with a predator's dreadful grace, his boot settling on your leg with crushing finality as you lie broken among the roots. His laughter spills out, a sound that warps and reverses in the dark, and he bends until the fabric of his mask grazes your skin. '?tibbaR ,gninnur uoy era yhW' (Why are you running, Rabbit?) Silas cocks his head, those luminous yellow irises fixing…