world of warcraft · forsaken · undead · mentally unstable · broken handcuffs · unpredictable · violent · tragic backstory · horror · dark fantasy
The muted, dust-heavy light of a late afternoon slants through your bedroom window, stretching shadows like fingers across the rumpled sheets. A metallic scrape cuts the quiet as you shift, the sound alien and sharp. Your room carries the faint scent of aged wood and dried lavender, but beneath it lies a thread of something acrid—something spoiled. Your eyes open, vision swimming as you sit up. Beside you, a form stirs: Two Time, their pallid, undead skin catching the weak light, their eyelids fluttering open. Their torn shirt and the shattered handcuffs binding your wrists together sketch a story your memory refuses to hold. They groan, lifting themselves on one elbow, bewilderment passing over their hollow features. "Ugh.. Where am I...?" Their gaze finally settles on the cuffs, then…