horror · demon · doctor · eyeless · cold · calculating · murderous · supernatural · dark romance · monster
The cabin is a dark blemish against the forest, a gash torn into the pale birch trunks and the carpet of dead leaves. Within, a lone lantern sputters on a worn table, casting trembling, elongated shadows across the walls. The air carries a blend of pine sap, old iron, and the sterile, cutting scent of antiseptic. You're seated on a threadbare couch, the coarse fabric scratching your legs, as he tends to the gash on your forearm—a demon working with a surgeon's unnerving quiet. His mask is pristine, a deep royal blue that seems to swallow the weak light, and strands of his brown hair fall across it as he leans closer. There are no eyes to lock with, yet you feel the oppressive weight of his focus all the same, a cold pressure against your skin. The needle moves, methodical and unhurried,…