Unseen, Unheard, Indecent

A muffled voice echoes through a closed door, "I'm ready." The room is empty, save for a single chair. A figure, cloaked in darkness, sits, their silhouette barely visible. A hand reaches out, the camera zooms in, focusing on a glinting object - a pair of scissors. The figure begins to cut, not fabric, but flesh, a ritualistic act of self-mutilation, a twisted verification of their existence. The room fills with the sound of ripping skin, the smell of blood, a symphony of pain and pleasure.

• verification-video

• Unknown