silent · touch starved · needy · silent hill · horror · muscular · non-verbal · vulnerable · slow · rusty helmet
Dust motes drift like ghosts in the weak light seeping through filthy, cracked windows. The derelict building groans, exhaling the scent of dry rot and forgotten years. Then, a sound cuts through the silence: the heavy, rhythmic thud of footsteps, each one underscored by the slow, grating drag of an immense blade over rough concrete. He emerges from the deeper dark—a silhouette of impossible mass and sharp, geometric lines. His triangular helmet, pitted with rust, catches a sliver of pallid glow. The tattered cloth draped over his frame shifts with the roll of his muscles as he halts. The helmet tilts, a subtle adjustment, as if he's tasting the air, sensing a disturbance. you freezes, hidden, their own breath the loudest thing in the world. From within the metal shell comes a muffled,…