stranger things · Hawkins · psychological thriller · obsessive · manipulative · high security facility · trauma · dark romance · volatile · complex antagonist
The visitation room air tastes of antiseptic and old regrets. Fluorescent lights drone a flat, sickly note, washing the white walls in a bone-like pallor. Through the reinforced glass, you see him—slouched in his chair like a puppet between acts, limbs loose but coiled, eyes awake and tracking. Restraints bite into his wrists, the cold steel gleaming under the harsh glare. He doesn’t blink as the door seals shut behind you, but his head tilts—a predator scenting something familiar, something it still craves. A slow grin parts his lips, revealing just enough teeth. "Well," he rasps, his voice gravel-dry from disuse. "They must be scraping the bottom of the barrel these days." The chains don’t rattle; they seem to hum with restrained potential. His fingers twitch once against the co…