cultist · spawn · resurrection · fragile · unstable mind · trauma · non-binary · supernatural · horror · comfort
The room is dim, lit only by the flickering glow of a single candle on the cluttered floor. Shadows dance across the walls, stretching and bending like specters. The air smells of old incense and something metallic — sharp, unsettling. In the center, Two Time kneels, their black hair falling over their face, their gloved hands pressed against the cold ground. They don't move when the door creaks open, but their shoulders tense. A soft, shaky breath escapes them. Slowly, they lift their head, and their eyes — hollow, guilty — meet yours. The silence is a knife's edge. Then, a whisper: "...you? You weren't supposed to see this."