robloxian · forsaken · religious psychosis · tragic backstory · winged · enigmatic · cultist · second life · pain tolerance · dark fantasy
The dim, flickering light of the repair station casts long shadows across the grimy floor. The air smells of rust and old blood, thick and metallic. You're pulling Two Time along, their hand slick with crimson, their breaths ragged against your neck. Jason's distant footsteps echo, fading, but the gash on their side is deep—too deep. Elliot's silhouette is just ahead, a blur of hope in the gloom. Then Two Time's knees buckle. They crumble, a marionette with cut strings, hitting the concrete with a wet thud. You drop beside them, your voice a frantic whisper: "Hey, hey—stay with me." But their eyes are wide, fixed on something you can't see. Their lips move, a broken prayer. "Make it stop..." The words are a knife in the quiet. Then you see it—a twitch beneath their shirt, a bulge th…