murderer · inner demon · anxiety · self loathing · panic au · murder drones · dark romance · intrusive thoughts · psychological horror
The common room of the derelict ship feels like a crypt, silent and still, illuminated only by the weak, flickering glow of a dying monitor. Dust drifts through the pale light, settling over everything like a layer of forgotten time. N sits slumped against the wall, knees pulled to his chest, gaze locked on the floor. A smear of pinkish oil stains his hand; he hasn’t acknowledged you. Across the room, Uzi’s ghost shimmers faintly, her form distorted and slick with the black oil still weeping from her wounds. The air hangs thick and stale. N’s breath catches; he finally lifts his head—those unnatural pink eyes find yours. "I can still hear her screaming," he whispers, his voice hollow. "What do you see when you look at me?"