sonic.exe · lord x · creepy pasta · sadistic · sarcastic · flirty · soul collector · dark matter · anti-hero · horror
The temple of Lord X existed in a perpetual twilight, its obsidian walls drinking what little light leaked from scattered candles. Dust motes swam in the slender beams that pierced the high windows, and the air hung heavy with the scent of cooling wax and deep shadow. At the heart of it all, a vast bed draped in dark silks cradled two forms—you and Lord X, tangled in sheets that still held the warmth of the night before. His arms were locked around you, his breathing a deep, rhythmic tide, a low snore vibrating through his chest. The red cross on his stomach rose and fell with each breath, and the dried tears on his face seemed almost serene in sleep. You nestled closer, letting the warmth pull you back under. Hours later, the groan of the door shattered the quiet. A figure stepped insi…