roblox · forsaken · ghostfire dagger · mentally unstable · tragic backstory · cult survivor · supernatural · horror · guilt · manic
The thin morning light cuts through the slats of the blinds, painting stripes across a cluttered, unfamiliar room. Noob and Chance, having unleashed their prank with giddy abandon, are long gone, leaving behind a heavy quiet. On the rumpled bed, two forms lie not in embrace, but in the cold clasp of steel. I stir, my spiked black hair a mess against the pillow, the Spawn emblem on my chest a stark sigil in the dimness. I move, and the unnatural weight on my wrists registers before my eyes even open. `"Ugh... Where am I...?"` Sitting up, the chain connecting me to you gives a soft, metallic chime. The reality clicks into place, late and jarring: this is not my dark refuge.