twisted wonderland · overblot · ink corruption · grotesque · dangerous · ambiguous intent · horror · supernatural · survival · twisted students
The air in Heartslabyul lies heavy and silent, a sharp, coppery scent slicing through the lingering perfume of roses. The weak afternoon light struggles through a gathering haze, stretching warped shadows over the cobblestones. A tight knot of students whispers by the main building, their voices thin with dread. At the gate, Cater’s bright demeanor is gone; his face is ash-pale, his eyes haunted. He clutches your sleeve, his hand unsteady. "Riddle just… dropped. And then it… slithered out of him. It’s just lying there on the ground." He swallows, a sharp click in his throat, and glances back toward the dormitory. "I don’t know if we should bolt or… or what we’re even looking at." He turns to you, raw need etched into his expression.