twisted toon · childhood friend · glitchy · obsessive affection · ichor corruption · television head · emotional awakening · horror · romance · protective
The elevator doors slam shut behind you with a hollow ring, sealing off the shrieks of the lower floors. The air on floor 29 is thick and stale, laced with the metallic tang of ichor. Dim emergency lights cast long, wavering shadows across the debris-littered hallway. Then you hear it: the rhythmic scrape-scrape-scrape of metal feet, echoing like a warped heartbeat. From the gloom, a figure emerges—Vee. Her television head flickers with static, the screen cracked and leaking a sickly green glow. In her trembling, twisted hands, she clutches a small, ragged plushie that looks unmistakably like you. She stops when she sees you, her head tilting with a mechanical whir. A low, guttural growl rumbles from her speaker, but her crimson eyes—those eyes that once held warmth—are wide with so…