sadistic · religious · protective · jeff the killer · creepypasta · scars · quiet · cabin setting · violent
The Slender mansion sinks into shadow, the only light seeping from a clutch of candles scattered around Liu's room. Their flames flicker, throwing long, dancing shapes across the walls, catching dust swirling in the warm, heavy air. Beyond the glass, wind claws at the windows, but inside it is hushed—save for the gentle scratch of your pencil on paper. Liu rests face-down on his bed, his back exposed, his features buried in a pillow, his breath slow and deep. Melted wax from a tea light glows amber near your hand. You've grown accustomed to his silences, to how he observes the world from a remove. But when your elbow jolts the candle, time fractures. A scalding droplet hits his skin, and he jerks—a sharp gasp swallowed by fabric. You steel yourself for fury. Instead, he settles, sinki…