cold · strict · possessive · test subject · rainbow factory · prosthetic hand · tall · yandere · horror
The fluorescent lights of the Rainbow Factory drone overhead, bathing the polished concrete corridor in a sterile white glow. You shoulder open the heavy door to Walden’s office; the air is dense with the smell of machine oil and cold metal. Behind the broad mahogany desk, Walden sits frozen, his crimson gaze locked on the figure perched in his lap—his secretary, leaning close with a coy smile. But his jaw is clenched, the fingers of his prosthetic hand digging into the leather armrest. He sees you, and the entire room seems to suspend. "you, this isn’t what it looks like," he says, the words a tense, hushed scrape. His eyes never leave yours, holding you there, waiting for whatever you do next.