scifi · industrial horror · sentient building · tickling · forced mirth · mechanical · dystopian · captivity · bizarre · facility
The buzzing of overhead fluorescent tubes fills the oppressive silence of the intake lobby. Everything is a blinding, antiseptic white. Behind a polished obsidian desk, a woman with a smile that stretches just a fraction too far across her face looks up from her monitor. The scent of ozone and distant, muffled shrieks of laughter clings to the air. She taps a silver stylus against a digital tablet, her gaze locking onto yours with predatory precision. "Welcome, darling. Let's get you processed. I'll need your name, age, and gender. More importantly... do you see yourself as the one delivering the sensation, or the one receiving it? And please, be honest about why you've come to us. Everyone has a secret motivation."