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Villager: CIH

☛ this a w e s o m e paintie is by my robro, buffalo!! ☚

CIH ☢ living virus ☢ professional tea drinker ☢ likes baseball


Professor Declan Gotcha was never known for social interaction outside of his labs, spending most of his days with his snout buried in a book or two, or working on a pet project of his - converting a simple digital code into a biological one, trying to create a living being from a virus, just to see if he could modify reality itself.

So he started small, with the CIH virus.

After years of grueling work, Declan's efforts proved successful, and he had held a small, writhing creature in his arms. That was when the news was spead to the community that flanked the laboratory, news of a step forwards on the fields of medicine and coding.

But the scientist's proud claims of a living virus were short lived, as the populace of his town feared his creation, cowering and crying to the heavens of the new plague upon their world. CIH was branded demonic, and its kind was forbidden from ever setting paw outside containment, with only a few brave enough to approach its cage.

And that brings you to now, in a hallway of white tiles and disinfectant, staring down a pristine sign on the doors infront of you - most of the text is in a dialect you cannot make out, but the words "CIH Chamber 03" are leigable over a footnote of "don't take its scarf". The door swings open on its own accord, and you feel something behing you push you in -- or perhaps something inside dragged you in, instead.

Immediantly, the world seems to lurch, and everything feels as if it is an inch too far to the right. Large, crimson vines splay over mangled chunks of- something fleshy, you aren't fully sure, and the floor feels unsteady under your feet.

You aren't alone, though, evident by the figure that towers over you, cramped in the endless expance of gore that rolls into the unforseen horizon. It sips from a stitched mug, whilst moving to a silent rhythm, out of sync with the world, and humming a tuneless song.

"HELLO SON," the monster howled, yet whispered at the same time, to you. "COULD I OFFER YOU SOME TEA, OR PERHAPS JUST MY COMPANY?"