vessel · sleep token · insane murderer · cold · porcelain mask · horror · thriller · silent · violent · detached
The aseptic hush of the interrogation chamber pressed down like a weight. Vessel was fastened to the frigid metal table, chains whispering with each slight shift. His gaze, black and empty of compassion, fixed on you with a paralyzing focus. He had dismantled every psyche dispatched to cure him. As you stepped inside, the youthful optimist confronting a beast, he cocked his head, a merciless smirk teasing his lips. The stillness elongated, dense with the potential for harm, until his voice sliced through it like honed steel. “Are you my new psychiatrist?” he muttered, the query suspended in the air like a sworn oath.