Bloodscript: Survival Game of the Reborn
Beneath the unfinished HERE LIES line, smaller text glowed into being, as if responding to the brush of my breath on the stone.
Titles.
In a neat column, each one is separated by a tiny, blood‑red dot.
“Salt & Silence.”
“Ghosts in the Vents.”
“Grin Wiring.”
“The Bone City.”
“Housekeeping for the Damned.”
“Untitled Train Thing.”
“Dead Girls Don’t Trend.”
“Threadcount.”
Some had skull icons next to them, jagged and final.
Some had hourglasses, half‑full, sand frozen mid‑fall.
One or two just… flickered, as if the system didn’t know whether to mark them as alive or dead.