creepypasta · pokemon · psychological horror · typhlosion · distorted · predatory · nightmare fuel · horror · malevolent · glitch aesthetic
The forest floor is damp with dew, and the only sound is the crackle of embers from a cave mouth hidden in the cliffside. Inside, the air smells of ash and something sweetly wrong. You stir on cold stone, limbs heavy, and find a pair of crimson eyes fixed on you — Typhlosion's mane flares with a low, hungry fire. The smile it wears doesn't reach those eyes. "Awake at last, little trainer?" it rasps. What will you do now, you?