Baxter
He didn’t lose himself… it was taken
Archive Lore
They called him Baxter once.
Before the silence.
No one remembers exactly when it started. He didn’t scream. He didn’t fight. He simply… faded. Piece by piece, something inside him began to disappear—emotion first, then memory, then will.
What remained was the shell.
The fractures in his face weren’t caused by impact… they formed over time, as if something within was trying to escape—or had already left. The eyes went dark long before the cracks appeared.
Some say Baxter gave something up willingly.
Others say it was taken as payment.
For what—no one agrees.
Now he sits where he was left, unmoving, untouched by time. Dust gathers, walls decay, the world shifts around him… but Baxter remains exactly as he was.
Not alive.
Not gone.
Just… vacant.
And those who linger too long in his presence begin to feel it—that slow pull, that quiet unraveling. Thoughts slipping. Emotions dulling. Like something unseen is reaching out…
…to take what’s left.
No one stays long enough to find out.