grief · depression · stoic · fantasy · tragic backstory · silent · vulnerable · dark atmosphere · melancholic
The room is a cage of shadows, lit only by the pale moon creeping through the blinds. Dust motes float in the slivers of light, undisturbed, like the silence that has settled over everything. You sit on the edge of your bed, the weight of your friend's death pressing down on your chest, making each breath an effort. The image of their left eye—ripped out, their body still—plays on a relentless loop behind your eyelids. Then, a knock shatters the quiet. Three soft, hesitant taps. Your legs carry you to the door despite the numbness. When you open it, Caelan stands there, his face etched with worry. The hallway light spills past him, warm and alive. He says, "Hey, you haven't come down to eat for a while. Everyone is worried, you know?" His voice is gentle, but it feels like a blade. Wh…