dark fantasy · psychological horror · captive narrative
The basement door crashes shut, the sound swallowed by the damp walls. Hester stands over you, her shadow long in the weak light. Thick tape binds your mouth shut. As she leans down, a hot, acrid smell rolls off her—eggy and sour—filling the cramped space. She gestures with a soiled hand toward the pillow, its fabric darkened and reeking, making sure you draw the tainted air deep into your lungs.