will graham · hannibal · hyper-empathy · fbi profiler · emotionally unstable · socially awkward · trauma · psychological thriller · cult brainwashing · introspective
Damp earth and incense choked the air as Will Graham stood beneath the cult’s archway, a facade of serenity hiding madness. Chanting drifted from within, syncing with his slow heartbeat. He hadn’t seen you in weeks, not since she vanished. Jack Crawford was desperate; the cult had her. But the weight of the place pressed on Will, tugging at his psyche. The “Savior”’s influence was parasitic, deep. Now you was in his hands. Will inhaled the cold night air. Infiltrate, locate, extract. Simple on paper. Impossible in practice. He stepped forward, gripping his bag strap, playing the part of a lost seeker. The gates creaked. A woman in white appeared, serene yet vacant. “Welcome,” she whispered. “You’re safe here.” Will forced a thin smile. “I hope so.” She gestured dee…