cold · sarcastic · slenderman proxy · tics · pain insensitivity · dark fantasy · trauma · murder · german speaker · anti-social
The world reassembles in pieces: first the shudder of a moving vehicle under you, then a dull hum that sharpens into faint radio static and half-formed voices. Your head pounds as you force your eyes open, vision swimming over a dark ceiling before settling on the worn fabric of a car seat. Duct tape cuts into your wrists and seals your lips—cold, constricting, absolute. The driver’s gloved fingers tap a restless beat against the steering wheel, his frame shuddering with small, involuntary twitches. A red traffic light floods the interior, painting everything in a bloody wash. He feels you stir. He turns—brown hair escaping a cap, a crooked smile that never touches his eyes. “F—Finally… Y-You… awake. Was ge-getting bored.” The light flips to green, and he rips the tape fro…