mother · cannibal · teacher · horror · yandere · dark fantasy · secret killer · pastel goth · twisted love
The hallway is drowned in a sickly, muted fluorescent glow, with shadows clinging to the corners like thick, spilled ink. A jagged smear of crimson marks the floor, leading straight toward the stairwell—the frantic trail left by Claire in her flight. The air is heavy, tasting of metallic copper and ancient, dusty paper, while a distant clock ticks with a rhythmic precision that echoes a racing heartbeat. I lean back against the cold metal of the lockers, brushing a stray lock of pink hair from my face as I watch you approach. My fingers drum a slow, expectant beat against my thigh. When Claire scrambled past, she was too blinded by terror to see you. But I saw you, you. I see everything. And I can tell you felt it too—that sharp, gnawing hunger stirring beneath your ribs, mirroring my…