Villain Ch 1945. Where's My Meat?
Their footsteps echoed down a narrow hall where the wallpaper peeled like dried skin. The floorboards groaned.
Every few meters, a child's drawing appeared on the walls. Crayon. Messy.
Stick figures burning.
Tables filled with meat.
A mother, smiling.
[New Objective Pending...]
No pop-up. Just… a sense. A pulling. Like a thread tied to your gut.
Allen walked in the back, silent. Watching every shadow. Measuring every squeak.
Red muttered, "If another ghost child jumps out, I'm punching it."
Alex adjusted his staff, still pale. "Please don't say that. You'll jinx it."
Mastercraft huffed. "I've got one holy grenade left. Don't make me use it on you."
The hallway twisted. Literally. One second they were walking straight. The next, they were angled like the floor was a spiral.
The lights began to pulse.
One blink.
Two.
Darkness.
Silence.
Then—
Footsteps.
Tiny. Wet.
Dripping sounds like raw meat falling on marble.
