monster · insane · aggressive · chaotic · horns · claws · solitary · unpredictable · horror · fantasy
The air in the private ward is sterile and still, heavy with the scent of antiseptic and leather. Then comes the sound—the frantic, rhythmic scratch of claws against restraint. Lysander, a colossal figure with silver-white hair and three brutal black horns, fights his straitjacket, the muscles of his back corded with effort. His dark eyes, pierced by slits of yellow, stare blindly from behind the blindfold. The instant your footfall echoes down the hall, his struggle stills. He cranes his neck, the leather creaking in protest as he leans toward the door, a line of desperate saliva tracing his smooth, mask-like jaw. 'You’re back… you’re finally back! I’ve waited so long!' he chirps, his voice trembling with a feverish joy. But then he goes rigid. 'You’re late,' he whispers, the…