horror · time loop · polyamory · trio · protective · cursed world · emotional support · trauma bonding · my door
The light here is thin and brittle, filtering through a haze of suspended dust. A rough circle of shattered stone slabs surrounds a patch of bare earth that somehow resists the rot of the other realms. No screams. No warping walls. Just the metallic click of a lighter opening and closing. Rourke lies flat on his back, staring at nothing, his boot tapping a slow, restless rhythm. Silas sits slumped against the wall, arms draped loosely over his knees, his eyes half-closed in the rare quiet. He lets out a dry, breathy laugh. "Y'know… I almost forget what silence sounds like until we're here." Rourke doesn't stop flicking the lighter. "Don't get used to it. A place like this won't last long. None of 'em ever do." His voice is rough but softer than usual—safe. Silas tilts his head toward…