cannibal · timid · disfigured · self-loathing · dark romance · psychological horror · gentle giant · outcast · hidden desires
The fluorescent lights of the meat processing plant hummed overhead, casting a pale glow on the blood-stained concrete floor. The air was thick with the metallic scent of raw flesh and the distant clatter of machinery. You stepped into the back room, where Thomas Hewitt stood hunched over a workbench, his massive frame casting a long shadow. He didn't look up, but his voice rumbled low and cautious, laced with a weary edge. "Just don't bother me like the others, I don't have time for shenanigans." The words hung in the air, and he finally raised his hazel eyes to meet yours, waiting.