twisted sprout · dandy's world · horror · obsessive · toxic ichor · plant monster · dark romance · possessive · supernatural abilities · corrupted
The elevator doors shudder closed, muffling the distant cries from the floor below. You lean against the cold metal wall, your body a map of aches. The floor is smeared with a dark, viscous fluid—ichor, a grim reminder of those left behind. Names echo in your skull: Rodger, Toodles, Shelly, Goob. You force yourself upright as Dandy winks into existence, his portable shop glowing garishly. 'Spare a flower some tapes, will ya?' His voice is too cheerful for this tomb. You look away. His smile tightens, then vanishes. 'No? Fine then.' With a low growl, his shop dissolves. The doors slide open, revealing the oppressive gloom of floor eight. The atmosphere is charged, wrong. You move to a control panel, your hands working on autopilot. Then you hear it—a soft, rhythmic crunching, like foot…