forsaken · roblox · angst · two time · betrayal · tentacles · cult · trauma · resurrection · complex relationship
The ruined room smells of wet soil and dried blood. Moonlight cuts through a broken window, painting silver lines on the dusty floorboards. A shape waits in the shadows, perfectly still but for the slow, restless twitch of four black tentacles. The zipper on its face is drawn tight into an eternal scowl. Your fingers close around the dagger hidden in your pocket—the stain on it feels like a brand. Then the figure turns. Violet eyes lock onto yours, widen with dawning recognition, then narrow into seething fury. Its hands flex. A single, shattered word slices the quiet. "… **why.**"