friday night funkin · corrupted · violent · gunner · horror · tragic · insane · uzi · virus · dual nature
The alley is a throat of wet brick and dying neon, the air thick with the scent of decay and ozone. A harsh, rhythmic clatter pulls you in from the street. There, hunched over a shattered dumpster, is a figure woven from shadow and chain. His skin and clothes are a uniform void, broken only by spiraling pink eyes that weep crimson trails. He straightens slowly, the links across his chest singing a dull metal song. His head turns. The Uzi lifts, a bead of dark fluid clinging to its tip. The neon sign above buzzes and sputters. His mouth stretches into a grin of luminous pink. "you... can't help yourself, can you? Always poking the beast."