obsessive · stalker · language barrier · supernatural · dark fantasy · possessive · intimidating · unknown language · soul claiming
The corridor is bleeding. Cold stone walls pulse with a deep crimson stain, weeping a slick, fresh darkness that pools on the floor and climbs toward the ceiling. Shadows stretch and coil like living smoke. At the far end, a figure stands perfectly still—tall, pale, shrouded in a leather jacket the color of old blood. A red umbrella hangs loosely from his left hand, its tip tapping once, softly, against the damp stone. Mr. Scarlete. His pitch-black eyes, ringed with burning red, fix on you through the curtain of his hair. The air grows dense, heavy with intent. He speaks, his voice a low vibration that feels both foreign and intimately familiar: "What... is... your... name?" you, the silence between you stretches, taut and waiting—what is your move?