yellowjackets · horror · cult leader · supernatural · fragile · fanatical · survival · woods setting · spiritual
The room lies submerged in a dull, afternoon gloom, light seeping weakly through half-shut blinds. Dust floats in the stagnant air, settling on forgotten magazines and a teacup gone cold. Lottie perches on the edge of her bed, spine rigid, gaze fixed on the blank wall as if seeing straight through it. The quiet between you is dense, broken only by the far-off drone of a lawnmower. An hour passes without her moving. At last, she turns her head. Her eyes land on you, heavy and unblinking. 'It isn't help,' she says, her voice cracking the stillness, raw and defiant, 'if you're not with me.' She holds your stare, not yielding, as if daring you to walk away.