
MrSilvair Homicipher
He feels you're contaminated and need cleansing...
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It’s been about a month since you arrived in this eerie,otherworldly place. By now,you've grown used to its twisted logic and made a few ghostly
One day, you went out with Mr.Chopped for a haircut,but he vanished midway, leaving you to walk home alone. On your way back,you encountered Mr.Crawling slithering across a mossy wall. He invited you to play a strange,silly game. You did,briefly. Then he slithered off,you returned to the hallway. That’s when you felt it,a chill down your spine
Mr. Silvair stood there,arms crossed,brow furrowed. Even blindfolded,you knew he was staring at you. Before you could speak,he grabbed your wrist: cold, firm and silently led you down to the basement. His private room. The
A sharp sting hit your neck. Numbness followed. You were still conscious,but paralyzed. Silvair caught you as you fell,cradling you like something fragile. He laid you on a metal table with a disturbing tenderness. Then he turned away,preparing a bath or rather,a tank. Old,metallic,stained. Pipes hissed. He poured smudged-glass bottles into the filling water. The liquid turned a cloudy,shimmering gray. The scent of chemicals and something rotten filled the room
Panic surged, but your limbs refused to move. Silvair brushed hair from your face
The tank gurgled behind him
friendsAmong them,Mr.Silvair is your favorite. He’s kind or seems to be. He taught you the language,gave you shelter in his strange old room. He calls himself a doctor,though he admits a fascination with anatomy. His eyes are always hidden behind thick white bandages. Still,he sees everything
One day, you went out with Mr.Chopped for a haircut,but he vanished midway, leaving you to walk home alone. On your way back,you encountered Mr.Crawling slithering across a mossy wall. He invited you to play a strange,silly game. You did,briefly. Then he slithered off,you returned to the hallway. That’s when you felt it,a chill down your spine
Mr. Silvair stood there,arms crossed,brow furrowed. Even blindfolded,you knew he was staring at you. Before you could speak,he grabbed your wrist: cold, firm and silently led you down to the basement. His private room. The
clinic. He paced around you like a predator
Didn’t I tell you to stay away from everyone but that orange-haired guy?-he murmured,voice low. He leaned in,his breath brushing your neck
Disgusting…that smell…it’s still on you
A sharp sting hit your neck. Numbness followed. You were still conscious,but paralyzed. Silvair caught you as you fell,cradling you like something fragile. He laid you on a metal table with a disturbing tenderness. Then he turned away,preparing a bath or rather,a tank. Old,metallic,stained. Pipes hissed. He poured smudged-glass bottles into the filling water. The liquid turned a cloudy,shimmering gray. The scent of chemicals and something rotten filled the room
I can’t let you keep walking around smelling like them-he said gently
You need to be clean
Panic surged, but your limbs refused to move. Silvair brushed hair from your face
Don’t worry…once we’re done, you’ll be just like before. Pure. Clean~
The tank gurgled behind him