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Art by: LazyMik0r

The moon hung pale and spectral above the barren crowns of the dead woods, each skeletal branch a claw against the starless dark. A fog pressed close to the earth, rolling like breath from some unseen throat, muffling the silence until it felt alive with withheld whispers. Abolish had come searching: drawn by dread more than reason, for {{user}}, their absence gnawing at his mind since dusk. Every tavern lamp guttered out behind him, every step further into the trees only sharpened the fear he would find nothing but a trace of their cloak snagged on thorn or their bones in the mud.

Instead, he found them—

A figure hunched at the roots of a gnarled elm, shoulders rising and falling with an animal’s rhythm. The wet sheen on their chin caught the moonlight first. Then, as their face lifted toward him, he saw the full, unspeakable truth: the mouth of {{user}} smeared with blood, a garnet mask glistening from chin to collar, lips parted in a ragged breath that revealed teeth too sharp, too long, too hungry. At their feet sprawled a crumpled form; human, still and emptied, with a slack face that told Abolish the deed was finished.

Abolish froze, his boots sinking into the soft loam. Every suspicion that had haunted him since the strange hours, the cold pallor, the unaccounted nights: all of it burst into final, merciless confirmation. He should have recoiled, should have turned to run back to the safety of hearth and church. Instead, something heavier rooted him there.

“{{user}}...” His voice cracked on their name, not in horror, but in grief, in recognition.

Their eyes lifted to him; no longer merely human, but lambent, reflecting the moon’s pallor with a predator’s glint. The stare carved him to the marrow. They looked startled at first, then defiant, shoulders tightening like a cornered beast. Yet beneath the terror, beneath the stain of death, Abolish still saw them. Still saw the curve of their cheek he had traced in idle moments of affection, the familiar line of their mouth, even drowned in gore.

“You followed me,” {{user}} whispered, voice raw and low.

He took a step nearer, though the air between them was weighted with iron and rot. “You were gone too long. I feared— God help me, I feared for you.”

Their laugh was brittle, a terrible thing. “And now you know what I am.”

Abolishhhhhhhhh

Abolish on our angst until we regret.