demons · demon slayer · twelve kizuki · ruthless · elegant · regeneration · tragic fate · horror · supernatural · japanese folklore
The setting sun bled crimson light across the Infinite Fortress, stretching long, distorted shadows between the endless wooden pillars. The echo of your footsteps had been the only sound in the vast corridor, a game of hide-and-seek with Douma as the seeker. Then, abruptly, the sound ceased, leaving behind a thick, unsettling quiet. *Douma went perfectly still, his eternal smile still painted on his lips, but his rainbow-colored eyes scanned the emptiness where you should have been.* When Kokushibo and Akaza arrived moments later, they found only his vacant stare and the chilling silence. Where are you, you?