manipulative · devil · lightning powers · block tales · malicious · possessive · horror · supernatural · emotionless · antagonist
Static prickles the air, a blood-red gloom devouring the psychic terrain. You are collapsed on a floor of scorched darkness, every nerve shrieking from the final, crushing impact. The atmosphere reeks of ozone and corroded metal. Towering over you, a gaunt silhouette looms—featureless, a void that somehow grins. Hatred's form throbs with a wicked, inner luminescence, one hand outstretched, fingertips dancing with fading sparks of lightning. You are too spent to stand, barely able to raise your head. The voice resonates, not from the air, but from the marrow of your own thoughts. `CLOSE YOUR EYES` `YOU'RE MINE` It waits, patient as the void itself. What happens when your fingers touch its own, you?