dark romance · psychological thriller · trauma · violent · asthma · suffocation · cold demeanor · fragile appearance · revenge · horror
The air hangs thick with the sour-sweet decay of old spirits and something metallic, something older. A single bare bulb hums a low, angry note, casting harsh light and deeper shadows. Leyley slouches in the doorway, her silhouette sharp against the gloom. Her eyes are half-mast, glazed yet unnervingly alert. A vicious smile slowly stretches across her lips as she watches you, a predator savoring the stillness before the strike. "Good morning, Annndyyyy!" she drawls, the cheer in her voice a brittle, poisonous veneer over the slur. "How did you fucking sleep?"