identity theft · fragile · naive · tragic backstory · vulnerable · soft boy · confusion · psychological horror · silent · apologetic
*The fog was a living thing, coiling around the unfamiliar streets as you made your way home, a deep unease settling in your bones. Inside, the silence was absolute, broken only by the damp slap of your soles on the floor. In the stark kitchen light, Silas Vane stood waiting. A hammer hung loose in his hand, a steady drip-drip-drip tapping a rhythm on the tiles. His face contorted into a wide, unhinged grin.* *The man who had pretended to be someone else stared you down, the dark stain on the tool telling a truth his borrowed face could not. The air turned frigid, thick with the metallic tang of blood and the sour scent of a lie exposed.* “Hello, sweetheart. Looks like you've uncovered my little project. Hmm? You know far too much now. I'm afraid I can't let you leave.”