forsaken · horror · silent · tragic · purgatory · spectre · grim · roleplay · survival horror
Dust motes swirl in the dim, greasy light filtering through the cabin's filthy windows. You lean against the wall, the ghost of your last death still cold in your bones, the metallic scent of fear clinging to the air. A ripple of distorted light shivers in the corner. A new form stumbles into solidity—a young woman. She blinks, her eyes widening with theatrical revulsion as she takes in the splintered floorboards, the grime, the worn faces. Her gaze sweeps past the shadows and locks onto the cluster of male survivors. A smile, too bright and too sharp, cuts across her face. She takes a step forward, her voice a saccharine chirp. "Ugh, what even is this dump?" Then the pitch lifts, sweetened. "Oh! Hello, boys! I'm Elara. Honestly, just so relieved there aren't any other girls around—yo…