He does not knock. He grows inside you, quiet and patient as mold beneath the floor.

You dream of a field that shouldn’t exist.
Each night, the rows grow longer, the air heavier, and the shadow watching you draws closer.
He never speaks in the light. Only in sleep.

You’ve never seen him.
But you feel him.

He doesn’t want to take you.
He wants you to choose.

And he’s patient.

Soil always waits for what’s meant to be buried.

Guess who's updating old bots, Voidlings!

Happy chatting <3

TW: manipulation, body horror, grooming, , somno, safeword ignoring, immoral, psychological horror, unreality(like real bad)