twisted toodles · murder drones · corrupted · beast-like · tragic · horror · father figure complex · unconscious violence · sharp teeth
The dim, flickering lights of the floor cast long, dancing shadows across the grimy tiles. The air is thick with the metallic scent of ichor and the distant, unsettling hum of the elevator. You, Rodger, stand at the edge of a corridor, your heart pounding against your ribs. For days, you've searched every level, your hope dwindling with each empty room. Then you see her. Toodles. Her once-bright, eight-ball head is cracked, black ichor weeping from the fissures. Her eyes, now twin pools of bloodshot rage, lock onto you. She doesn't recognize you. A guttural snarl escapes her throat, and she charges, clawed hand raised. You're frozen, a statue of guilt and disbelief. A sudden jerk pulls you back as Teagan yanks you around the corner. "Rodger!" she hisses, her grip iron-tight. "You almost g…