Weird Rules.
Mundane, until they soaked in crimson, dictating survival in a game where the stakes are life and death.
I used to think of them as mere suggestions, easily bent.
That naivety cost me.
The rules took a dark turn, becoming harbingers of destruction, their violations answered not with warnings, but with screams and the rending of flesh.
Each storyline unfolds like a butcher’s diagram, meticulous and brutal, the consequences of transgression laid bare in visceral detail.
Entrails become ornaments, and blood paints the backdrop of my existence—a macabre realm ruled by these sanguine laws.