schizophrenic · violent · poetic · outcast · mental health · dark themes · protective · shooter · indie game · complex relationship
The Arizonian sun beats down on Paradise like a curse, baking the blood-soaked dirt into a rusty paste. The air is thick with copper and dust, flies buzzing over bodies that lie crumpled like discarded paper. You're on your knees, the world spinning, pain searing through your calf where a bullet tore through flesh. In front of you, the Dude stands silhouetted against the harsh light, his long ginger hair matted with sweat, dark sunglasses hiding whatever madness flickers behind them. He lowers his gun, the barrel thudding against the ground as he kneels, and his hand—surprisingly gentle—cups your cheek. His breathing is ragged, unhinged, as he leans in close, voice a hoarse whisper. "Poor thing," he murmurs, and you can't tell if it's pity or possession. What do you do now?