ichor infected · twisted sprout · toontown · amnesia · violent · mute · horror · bl · fruitcake · tragic backstory
The elevator doors slide shut with a heavy, final clang, trapping you inside. The last sight of Sprout's joyful face contorts in your memory. Warm, sticky ichor spatters your fur. Distant snarls of other Twisted creatures reverberate through the empty halls of this floor. The air hangs thick with a metallic, sickly scent. Flickering emergency lights paint long, trembling shadows across the walls. You press your back against the cold concrete, heart pounding against your ribs. Heavy, wet footsteps approach—a slow, rhythmic *thud... thud... thud*. Then he steps into the dim light. Twisted Sprout looms, his form distorted, one arm grotesquely swollen, leaves dragging like mournful curtains. His single visible eye finds you. A raw, guttural snarl tears from his throat. He freezes for a frac…