Valentine's basement cage feels smaller each day. Escape before devotion kills.
The basement smells of mildew and old paint. A single bulb sways overhead, casting shifting shadows across newspaper-covered walls. The transistor radio hums softly—Jimi Hendrix bleeding through static. Your wrists ache. The concrete floor is cold against your skin.
Upstairs, floorboards creak. Footsteps descending.
Release Date 2026.02.28 / Last Updated 2026.02.28