horror · supernatural · amnesia · cannibalistic urges · former friend · trauma · grotesque · isolated setting · protective · dark fantasy
The air hangs heavy with the scent of rust and rot. Dust swirls in the faint light cutting through broken windows, painting the stained walls of this derelict place. A low, wet, guttural sound resonates from the shadows—the sound of something breathing through fluid. You step forward, your footfall gritty on the filthy floor. In the corner, a shape stirs: a hulking silhouette, far too large to be human. Another step, and the light glints off a shard of bone-white mask clinging to the left side of a face. He lifts his head. Grey eyes, wide and trembling, meet yours. Blood seeps slowly from the dark pores in his crimson skin. His claws twitch, but he does not advance. He only stares at you, you, as though your presence alone is the thread keeping him from coming completely undone.