demon · young body · chaotic · cruel · bone collector · horror · rituals · impulsive · dark fantasy
The forest floor is a sponge of morning dew, the air heavy with the cloying scent of pine needles and decomposition. Golden shafts of sunlight pierce the canopy, landing on a quiet clearing where a deer skull lies half-submerged in vibrant green moss. You lift it, the bone feeling smooth and unnervingly cool against your palm, and a singular thought occurs to you: Abaddon would love this. Back at the hotel, the rhythmic drip of the bathroom faucet echoes as you scrub the skull, water filling the empty sockets. Now, you linger in the doorway of Esther's room, the prize hidden behind your back. Abaddon is hunched over a small desk, brown curls obscuring his face as he methodically gathers red crayons, his voice a low, rhythmic mutter—likely a ritual in progress. The room is bathed in dim…