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wonderfulworldofmichaelford · 7 months

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Psycho Analysis: William Afton

(WARNING! This analysis contains SPOILERS!)

The original Five Nights at Freddy’s had an Easter egg in the form of news articles detailing the disappearance of several children at Freddy’s, a little bit of easily missable lore that hinted that there was more to these killer animatronics than meets the eye and giving a good indication as to why the pizza place seemed like such a shithole. Of course, these papers raised a very important, chilling question: Who was the man behind the slaughter?

And the answer as provided by the sequel and that would be expanded upon in later installments was: This creepy purple fuck.

William Afton AKA Purple Guy is the monster who many lost their sons (and daughters) to. He’s a wildly enigmatic serial killer who is expanded upon in cryptic cutscenes and games in the earlier entries… And then later entries would really delve into who he is and make him also ludicrously complicated, as if he were a physical representation of the series itself. But even though it’s been so long, we’re stuck to ponder the greatest and most important question of them all:

Motivation/Goals: I think the most fascinating aspect of Afton is that, despite the lore becoming so much more dense and crazy as the series went on, one thing never changed: His goals are utterly and completely unknowable. Sure, Afton has long since been revealed to be a mad scientist and something of a Jigsaw-type torturer of children… But why? What does he gain other than perhaps some sick, perverted joy? What drives him to kill children? What made him come back to destroy the animatronics in the lead up to his first death? Why does he keep coming back time and time again? Afton leaves us with a lot more questions than answers, and even as he has steadily become sillier and sillier in terms of characterization, he still manages to retain an unsettling evil presence to him due to a lack of any real reason as to why he is the way he is. He’s just an evil, loathsome asshole.

Performance: In Sister Location, Afton is finally given a voice by P. J. Heywood, but that’s a voice role that could never hope to escape the shadow of the live-action adaptation’s casting. In the movie that was finally released in 2023 after years in development hell, Afton was portrayed by Matthew Lillard. He’s most well known today as Shaggy from the live-action Scooby Doo movies, but his role here calls back to one of his big breakout roles: Stu Macher, one half of the original Ghostface in Scream. While he is used incredibly sparingly in the film—he appears for a couple minutes near the start and then about ten minutes at the end—he steals the scene every time he’s onscreen, and his performance once he’s put the Springtrap suit on and is in full villain mode really show that he’s still got it. It’s hard not to feel disappointed we only got a small taste of what Lillard can bring to the role, but hey, there’s always sequels. Many are already calling him the definitive portrayal of Afton, and it’s hard to disagree.

Final Fate: This dude gets fucked up and comes back so much that he would leave Rasputin in awe.

In Five Nights at Freddy’s 3, we get to see his first gruesome end. Trapped by the ghosts of his victims, he decides to hide from them in a Spring Bonnie costume… that has been sitting in a damp room, and which has mechanisms that are known to fuck up and maim the wearer if they breathe funny? Bro was just asking to get Springtrapped.

youtube

After slowly and painfully dying from having his skeleton obliterated, he was left to rot in the abandoned pizzeria’s sealed room for decades until some absolute genius decided to turn the place into a spooky haunted house attraction. Afton wakes up, but he gets less than a week to enjoy his newfound freedom because due to faulty wiring the place burns down with him inside it. He’s revealed to have survived that in the end of Sister Location, but then Pizzeria Simulator has him trapped in an inescapable maze and set ablaze again… And for now, it seems to have stuck. Sure, there are hints here and there that this guy might still be purpling around, but right now it’s nothing more than theories.

GAME THEOR��

Best Scene: Aside from the aforementioned death scene from the third game, both scenes Lillard is in in the film are the highlights of the movie.

Best Quote: “I always come back!” A line so good, they had to have Lillard drop it as his pre-mortem one-liner in the movie!

Final Thoughts & Score: As I mentioned in the opening paragraphs, William Afton very much feels like the embodiment of his home series in one character. He started out as something simple and chilling—a serial killer who targeted children, using their love of a mascot character to lure them to their death—but then, over time, slowly morphed into a mad scientist who designed the animatronics and managed to cheat death multiple times. He’s a living metaphor for how the series that started as a simple series of horror games with a little lore being drip fed to us eventually morphed into some massive, crazy science-fantasy epic with convoluted plotlines and all sorts of robotic and supernatural nonsense at every turn. And Afton and the series both ultimately have one important aspect in common: Despite everything, they’re still immensely enjoyable.

Yes, at this point Afton really just needs to stay dead and not pop up again as a main antagonist; his arc is over, he’s run his course, and his current final fate is immensely satisfying. It would honestly feel like a cheat if he came back again. And yes, it’s really silly they turned what was essentially a grounded Pennywise into Chuck E. Cheese Jigsaw, with elaborate torture machines and mad science and all, but I think it’s all very fun and charming in a B-movie sort of way. And Like I’ve mentioned previously, all of the added information still does nothing to elaborate on his true motives behind the slaughter. The man is every bit as unsettling and enigmatic because nothing we learn about him tells us the truth that we really want to know: Why?

Afton is one of the most iconic modern video game characters. No, not just villains, characters, period. I think as far as video game villains go, he’s easily one of the most memorable to come out of 2010s video game culture, and he’s pretty recognizable due to his wacky purple sprites. I think part of the appeal is all of the mystery surrounding him, especially back during the first three games. The books, later games, and to a lesser extent the movie slightly demystify him, but the elements about him that work wouldn’t make me rate him below an 8.5/10. He’s a weird, fucked up guy who is shrouded in mystery even as he gets more and more cartoonishly evil, and there’s something really fascinating about that.

Now if he could just fucking stay dead so I could appreciate him a bit more, that’d be great.

#Psycho Analysis #William Afton #five nights at freddy's #Matthew Lillard #P. J. Heywood #Youtube

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slasherbish · 1 year

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Woods Part 3

The sun had started to set and the rain was now a light drizzle. The temperature was also dropping. “How long until they come looking for you?” You asked wanting to know if you’d end up spending the night with a killer or not. “Tomorrow probably. Preston will be there. Ignore him he’s an idiot.” He responded. You pouted, the thought of staying the night in creepy woods with a killer that video taped everything made you shiver. Gathering your thoughts and emotions you realized you didn’t know his name, It seemed like at this point knowing each other's names would be okay. “Um my name is (y/n) by the way. What's yours?” you asked, now facing the disfigured man. “Jesse” his phone said. “It’s nice to meet you Jesse.” You said with a smile. Night fell quickly.

Your stomach growled loudly in the early morning hours. You had barely slept due to fear of what might happen. Jesse woke up to the sound of your stomach, making a confused look he raised his eyes to meet yours. “Oh I’m sorry my stomach woke you. It’s almost like I haven’t eaten in god knows how long since you kidnapped me.” You said with a hint of anger seeping in. A second later you realized you just basically yelled at a serial killer and covered your mouth with your hands in shock. You were about to apologize when his phone talked “You have bite. I like fire”

“I’m still sorry. I’m just so hungry and tired.” She said apologetically. His phone spoke up again “You would probably be a better addition than Preston” She tried to figure out what he meant and then it hit her “Are you offering me a job?” You asked. He only shrugged. At this point the sun was rising and out in the middle of nowhere it was a breathtaking view. You even smiled at the sight. Unknown to you your forced companion had noticed the smile, he thought it was a beautiful smile.

The two of you spent the morning rebuilding the fire and adding in anything that made it smoke more. You had come up with the idea of a smoke signal and Jesse was impressed at your thought process. He hadn’t thought about needing to signal your exact location since the phone by this time was nearly dead and not able to transmit it’s gps signal. The smoke signal rose high into the sky, it would be easy for a plane or helicopter to see from a distance.

Since neither of you had the survival skills to know which plants were edible you sat trying to make a small spear with the use of one of his knives and a stick. Since you were the faster of the two it would be your job to spear the animal. You were not looking forward to it. Jesse tried to reassure you that it would be okay since it’s for survival.

Finally you got the courage to try. It didn’t take long for you to find a lone rabbit grazing in a field. Doing your best you missed by a lot and the bunny left in a hurry. “Dammit” you cursed. Jesse silently chuckled at you. Even though it was a silent laugh due to him not being able to really make noise you could sense it and so you turned around giving him a death glare. The large man playfully put up his hands in mock defense. “Oh my gods you have a sense of humor” you said with a dramatic gasp.

He didn’t show it often but he did in fact have a softer side. At work it was necessary for him to be the stone cold stoic killer that he is, but in free time he was more relaxed and kind. He no longer saw you as his prey or a threat so he let the walls slip down for a bit. She was relieved that his mood had seemed to improve. After a few more tries you finally managed to kill a larger rabbit. With the brightest, most proud smile you had you held up the dead animal. Jesse clapped to show that he too was proud. He knew how to skin and cook the animal and so he did that half of the work.

By this time it was noon and the two of you sat happily eating the cooked rabbit. Just as the meal was finishing up you hear the sound of helicopters and ATV’s. Your eyes widen slightly in fear. Jesse easily sensed this and typed “It’s my company. Don’t tell anyone about me being nice.” the phone said as he put a small amount of sap onto his mask to act as a temporary adhesive. You frowned at this, his face was something you’d grown to like, it was friendly and kind. It pulled you back to reality that most people saw him as something monstrous. You wondered if his company even knew what he looked like.

A gun in your face snapped you from thoughts. In front of you was a man not as tall or intimidating as Jesse. He had black hair and a wicked smile. “Preston” the phone in Jesse’s hand said. “Oh you’re the annoying one J-Chromeskull was talking about.” Your face lit up as you realized this. The smile on Prestons face left in the blink of an eye, being replaced with a frown/scowl. “You little bitch!” He yelled in your face. You only giggled through your fear. This only angered him more. A woman walked up behind Preston and pushed him aside. It was clear he was the lowest on the food chain.

“Shut your mouth Preston. Jesse wants her alive.” The woman said calmly. Subconsciously you walked back and bumped into someone. “I..I’m sorry” you stuttered out turning around to see Jesse. The sudden arrival of thirty or so people was overwhelming. The woman eyed you before saying “My name is Spann, I work for Chromeskull.” She said. You nodded trying to collect yourself. “I’m (Y/n)” You managed to say. “I know” Spann said. Looking over the womans shoulder you could see a still angry Preston barking orders at the workers. Jesse put a large hand on your shoulder as reassurance.

“You have two options now that you know about this organization. We kill you or you work for us.” Spann gave you the ultimatum.

@slashershell

#horror #jesse #jesse cromeans x reader #jesse cromeans #laid to rest #laid to rest 2 #spann #preston #slasher x y/n #slasher fucker #slasher x reader #slasher

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enelea · 19 days

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Episode 37 - An unexpected outcome

It took a few minutes after Nina left for Don to realize that he had been a complete fool. Nina had many faults, but he had actually been running away from his feelings for her for quite some time now. He and been trying to drive her out of his mind and heart because if he became vulnerable again and something happened to her, he wasn't sure he could survive a second round of what happened after Cassandra died. The nanny came in for her shift, as he was actually supposed to go to the hospital for a night shift.

He rushed past her and ran to his car, phoning the hospital to call in sick. "Blast it all to hell, what is wrong with this stupid car?" The car simply wouldn't start. He hadn't left the lights on or anything like that. At that moment a taxi approached and pouring, immersive rain drenched him. He waved the taxi driver down and eagerly got in. " I have a strange request, I am looking for a car with this registration. I will direct you, she couldn't have gotten far. They drove through the surrounding area and suddenly Don didn't recognize where they were. "Make a u-turn please. I don't recognize the area and she won't be here." "Trust me, we need to continue on this road", the old man said. Don felt the hair rise in the back of his neck, was this some creepy serial killer taxi driver who took him out to the woods to attack him? He became panicked. "Where are we? Turn back now." Suddenly steam came from the car's engine and the taxi driver had to pull over. "Sorry, son. This old cab of mine just broke down." "You idiot! Why didn't you listen to me?" "Just trust me and be patient for a moment." He made a call to, what Don assumed was the cab company he worked for and then got back into the car after checking the engine.

Don realized with trepidation that he had not charged his cellphone and that it had turned off. They sat waiting for the other cab and the tow truck for what seemed like ages. But looking back on it Don realized that it was completely worth it. The taxi driver spoke to him about life and death and eternity. Don was surprised to find the cab driver a religious man, the type he always avoided like the plague. He listened to the old man and had to admit that everything he said made a lot of sense. The old man seemed to know a lot about Don's life, which made Don wonder a bit about the strange encounter, but there was no cars to flag down so he had little other choice than to listen to Emanuel. Strange name for such an ordinary looking old man.

Then he saw and heard it. Nina drove by and stopped next to them looking on her cellphone for directions. He jumped out of the car and ran to her, knocking on her window. He explained what had happened and pointed her to the car. She was baffled, "Don there's nothing here." Don turned around in shock at the empty spot where he had just sat in the broken cab. The rain stopped and he used Nina's phone flashlight to try and investigate where the car was before. His backpack was the only thing in that spot. It was completely dry and it was unzipped. He opened it to check if anything was missing, but the opposite was true. A Bible just like the one Nina had gotten from the pastor was tucked neatly inside of his bag.

Nina and Don couldn't explain the events as anything other than divine intervention. Don and Nina prayed together after they had shared their experiences and spoke for hours. Don gave his heart to God and they went to a church nearby and got baptized.

Their engagement and marriage soon followed. They were changed people and did not crave that which they had lived for before. When the news of Dina's death and evil deeds came to light. Don was there to help Nina and her faith carried her through it all.

#sims 2 #sims 2 storytelling #sims-2 #sims 2 stories #sims 2 pictures #my sims #sims 2 gameplay #sims 2 screenshots #ts2 tumblr #pleasantview

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curamorte · 3 months

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i'm gon'a get the creepy things lou has been toting around my head lately to see if they're anything viable or if it is secretly elizabeth trying to influence her or talk her way into getting some attention SO! and, after u read, if u do, i'd love to hear your inputs and ideas, too!

when it comes to romantics and romanticism and even intimacy, i'm noticing a pattern of lou going "i want to live in them, i want to be part of them" or vice versa. almost a very literal type where when she knows she's in love, she down horrendous, she starts leaning towards more grotesque shows of affection and the nature. she'd never desecrate a client's body, but embalmed entrails and anything marked to discard she'd probably arrange into "i love you" or a heart or of some "romantic" nature, take a picture, and send to her lover. she'd think about how romantic it would be to give them anesthetic, cut them open a little, she knows enough to perform surgery, take a picture of her holding their heart, vice versa. how romantic! on the lesser side but still creepy, asking for a small snip of hair to put in a special locket she'll wear. asking if they'd like to give her a small sample of blood (she knows enough phlebotomy, she could extract it safely and treat them well afterwards to replenish what was lost) to either make a necklace or a ring of or something of the sort to keep with her as a token. and she'd gladly do the same! in fact, they may be some of the first true romantic love gifts she'd give to someone once in a very committed relationship. her blood, a small braiding of her hair in a locket or pocketwatch. pictures of her in a coffin or covered in blood, chest open with her heart exposed for them.

there's also been the creeping, sneaking suggestion of obsessive behavior when she's in love. maybe keeping too close of tabs. sharing location. only wanting them for herself. or to a degree, wanting that for herself. wanting obsession. her family aren't with her, they have their own priorities and lives. and she's isolated. she'd want for naught but their love and affection and attention. she'd sit pretty for them wherever they want her to wait at.

all a bit unhealthy thoughts and ways to view love as for her i think. elizabeth, for any that know her, is similar in this, but she *is* a serial killer, and currently (tho i do need to reply it's been forever i'm sorry lovely lol) @scftheartiisms and i do have a dynamic going where ellie pretty much is just holding valerie from the world because she now sees her as Her's and wants to keep her for herself. ellie is an obsessive individual, selfish and *creepy*. she Would kill other people for getting near who / what she designates her Her's, and has before.

i don't think lou would ever / could kill somebody? i think if ever it happens, and has happened, is it's out of self defense. life or death. and even then, it's hard to grapple with having taken a life for her. she loves life. loves people. loves the living. she'd hate to be a *cause* of death. she just wants to *care* for the dead, and their living, too. sometimes i think that bleeds together and this is what creates that bit of creepiness. the immediate romanticism of planning a funeral together for her and her partner. of taking morbid, macabre pictures to send or keep as romantic gestures. commissioning her siblings in down seasons for taxidermy projects of bones, skeletons, hearts, or things that resemble a human out of their materials as gifts or shows of affection. blood kink is creeping in there somewhere, i'm sure.

i don't know. i've got a lot of this swimming around up there and lou is like "oooh!" while i'm trying to cover her eyes (and ellie is like "nono, let her see" lol).

#﹙ ooc. ﹚❦#tapping my chin...

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theboysfromaustin · 6 months

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The one where Gav's an urban legend

---

February 12, 2013

Kazuo spun in his chair, laptop precariously balanced on his lap. Ian glanced over, "If you drop that again, I'm going to get you one of those cases like they put on toddler tablets." "I'm careful. My balance is impeccable." "You fell down the stairs yesterday," Gav didn't even look up from his computer. "Those stairs are a death trap."

Ian looked at the clock, "Another half hour and we can get lunch." "Sounds good." Kazuo spun in his chair again, before kicking his feet up on his desk. He was busy scrolling through Reddit, flitting from one subreddit to the next. Somehow, he wound up on r/Detroit, and immediately took notice of one thread -

What's the weirdest thing you've seen at night?

Kazuo looked at Gav, remembering every weird street story he'd been told. He started scrolling, the usual nonsense popping up - haunted places, I saw Bigfoot at Burger King, the norm. And then….

Okay, so when I was a teen, me and my shithead friends would go joyriding in abandoned neighborhoods, blasting music and being assholes, throwing beer bottles and smoking pot. It was a Friday or Saturday, maybe 1 AM. We liked to turn off our headlights to make it creepy, and I know, stupid but we were teens. I don't remember what street it was, but the houses were all burned out, when something ran in front of our car. My girlfriend screamed, and I turned the lights on. There was this ginger kid, beaten up and filthy, flinching away. He looked scared and half crazy, and then I swear to God, he took off running, climbed the side of a house like Spider-man and disappeared. We still don't know what the fuck he was.

Oh thank god I'm not the only one who saw that guy. He was fast and nimble. Like a spider. Never said a thing. Saw him in a ton of places, usually after dark while joyriding. Had a wide range and often had a pack of dogs that were NOT friendly. There was a big Saint Bernard type that tore the bumper off my buddy's car. It was held on with duct tape, but it's the principle. Fuckin' Cujo.

I see you met the Detroit Dogman. Tiny ginger dude. I saw him with a pack of dogs around the old Packard plant. He stood there and his dogs chased my friends and I out. He was afraid of us. I wonder what his story is, but I haven't seen him in years now, hope he got off the street.

Little man, long red hair? I saw that dude stealing beef jerky and roller grill crap from a 7-Eleven. I didn't say a word, he looked malnourished. He left and a pack of dogs materialized out of the alley. Weird.

I saw him from a distance, carrying a shovel and a bloody bundle. I followed a bit behind, just in case he was a serial killer, and he buried it in an empty lot. I checked it out after he left and found a huge pet cemetery, markers with names and breeds. It spanned a few blocks. I don't think he's a bad guy, just prefers the company of dogs. Maybe he's a runaway, he looked young.

I saw him hauling a big bag of dog food. He was having trouble, but he started running when he saw me following him. His feet and legs were all cut up. He was FAST though.

man i saw this lil fucker swimming with a lot of dogs in the detroit river in fuckin november and he had a fish in his mouth like a big ol wiggly fish what the fuckkkkk

I saw him multiple times. He was kind of cute in a filthy, matted way. I wanted to ask about his dogs. He made the city interesting. I got close once, and he smelled like dirty Vienna sausages. He noticed and flinched real hard, like he expected me to attack him. Hope he's doing better now, miss seeing him around.

My friends and I were drinking in an abandoned K Mart at night when we heard a weird noise. This weird little dude was on the roof, howling at the moon. I threw a Molson bottle and he jumped off the roof and took off running. What the hell.

Kazuo started giggling like a complete idiot. These were all about Gav. Gav, who was quietly typing at his computer and listening to music. There were more stories. One reply was just a low resolution photo of Gav and his pack squaring off with raccoons in a Big Boy parking lot. Ian turned slightly, "What are you chuckling about, you degenerate?" Kazuo wheeled himself over, handing off his laptop, "Here. Behold."

Ian started reading, "Oh. Oh my. Um, Gav?" The redhead looked up, "Yeah?" "We have some things you need to read." Gav rolled over, squeezing in to look at the screen, "What's so…oh. This is…about….me?" "You're an urban legend." "Huh. I mean, I know I probably scared a lot of people at night…and urban explorers…but…wow."

"You are a celebrity," Ian shrugged, "Are there more?" "It's a big thread, so maybe." "This is weird." "You okay?" "Well, the attention from strangers is a bit off putting, but that might be the autism." "The raccoon photo is impressive," Ian studied it. "Yeah, we had to fight for the dumpsters. You're not grossed out by me having eaten from dumpsters, are you?"

"We figured you had to do what you needed to survive." "And I've seen Ian drop a gyro in the actual road on Sixth, pick it up, dust it off, and eat it." Gav relaxed, "It was gross, but it helped me feed the group. I could open dumpsters, and they couldn't." "So, are you going to post? You can use my account." Gav thought for a moment, "I think…maybe I should. I know it'll kill a lot of the mystique, but there are people that want to know if I'm okay." "Hang on," Ian took a photo of Gav in front of the computer, "Sending this to your email, Kaz."

Kazuo downloaded it, "Add that to your post." Gav nodded, starting to type.

So, one of my boyfriends found this thread. (This is his account) I am the Detroit Dogman, and I am safe in Texas after leaving Detroit in 2007. I had a really bad home life - I'm gay, and was the unwanted twin, and left at 16 in 2005, though I'd been wandering with my pack since late 2002, when I'd found them while wandering during a night I'd run away from home. We did live in the old Packard plant, though I'd take a few days to get food or try to replace clothes and blankets. I stole a lot, and I'm not proud of it, but I'd also panhandle, scared as I was of people, to get dog food.

We did fish the Detroit river, and it was the only fresh meat I had while on the street. I wouldn't call fast food dumpster diving 'fresh'. Life was rough, but at least I could provide entertaining stories and some scares.

As I said, I'm safe in Texas. Austin. I have two wonderful boyfriends who pulled me off the street, and gave me a home and a job - I'm a paralegal now, my one partner is a lawyer, and I'm happy and healthy now. I'm attaching a photo of me in front of this thread. I look forward to more stories. I had to leave my dogs behind because there was no safe way for us to all travel together. I miss them, and I hope they're okay. My name is Gav, by the way, to put a name to the dirty, bedraggled face.

Signed, the Detroit Dogman

Gav sat back for a moment, before hitting 'post'. "You alright?" Ian cocked his head. "Yeah," Gav said, "It's like I have closure. But I still get to be an urban legend. I'm okay with that." Kazuo draped himself around Gav's shoulders, "You ready for lunch, Dogman?" "Yeah. I think we need chili." "Good choice," Ian stood, stretching, "You've earned it." Gav replaced Kazuo's laptop, "Hard to believe I'm a celebrity." "We'll have to look for more stories," Kazuo grinned. "I want to compile them," Gav pulled on his coat, "Maybe write some sort of memoir -

The Dogman Chronicles."

#oc #original character

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playingwithgore · 1 year

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do you have any movie recommendations for people that are trying to start watching non-mainstream horror movies 🙈 ?? thank you if you answer btw !!

AHH sorry it took me so long to answer I'm on vay-cay!! I love giving recommendations lol

So in the way of non-mainstream but still quality horror there is a lot of variety! I personally like obscure cult classics and underground indie gore stuff myself, but here is kind of a general list of a handful of lesser known horror flicks that I think any genre fan will like!

(in no particular order, with no particular theme other than me finding them underrated)

1. Mad God (2021) -> beautiful and gross and weird mixed media (mainly stop motion) surreal film, kind of dystopian. Creepy as hell!

2. The Lodge (2019) -> all the directing skill and theming of an A24 film but mysteriously unpopular! Also really really cool twist with who the villain is... Tw for animal death tho.

3. Possessor (2020) -> about an assassin who literally possesses people in order to get closer to her marks and it has like a freaky affect on her. It's super trippy and was made by fuckin Cronenburg’s son !! What more can I say.

4. Hush (2016) -> kind of a classic breaking and entering suspense building horror movie, but with an interesting framing device of the main character being deaf and mute. There r some pretty intense and scary scenes in this would highly recommend.

5. Hell House LLC (2015) -> this really every well executed found footage film about a group of people trying to start a haunted house Halloween attraction in an actually haunted/possessed building!

6. The Woman (2011) -> ooorgrhrjrh it was directed by the guy who made May (2002), another great movie, and this one is similarly uncomfortable but it's way less campy. Its this really really intense commentary about sexism and misogyny and it is HARD TO WATCH but I. I love it. The acting is a particular highlight. Tw for incest and s/a and... A whole mess of stuff. The lead man is perfectly detestable.

7. Teeth (2007) -> very infamous but I don't think most ppl have actually seen it and seen how good it is!!

8. Inside (2007) -> if you wanna get into new french extremity!! A genre you may know for Martyrs (2008), this is one I highly recommend. Another breaking and entering type deal but considerably more graphic than Hush.

9. Behind the Mask: The Rise of Leslie Vernon (2006) -> a deconstruction of Ur classic slasher told in a mockumentary style about an aspiring serial killer, in a world where slashing is kind of... Just... A career? Idk it's really clever and fun.

10. Tremors (1990) -> coolest beasts ive ever seen in a movie. Need I say more? It is also very funny.

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felicityhicklingviscomlvl6 · 2 months

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mp – this is gendered.

going back to research to find more in-depth areas that I can start to build a narrative from.

"we have probably all heard of the serial killer that lurks in the dark and preys on his victims, the creepy and disturbed neighbour or the handsome, ruthless narcissist. one thing these stereotypes all have in common: they are men. just take a moment to think of serial killers you have heard about…men, right?"

key quotes and statements:

"this has of course a lot to do with stereotypical gender norms and how murders are often viewed as a masculine act."

one in every six serial killers are women

"...significant differences between men and women serial killers...when it comes to motives, victim profile, and murder weapons."

"...women serial killers often take the role of a caretaker when they kill, leading them to be called ‘angels of death’ or ‘lethal caretakers’."

"another group of women serial killers are called ‘black widows’ because they kill their husbands for financial gains."

"...men serial killers who usually don’t know their victims and kill for sex, power and control...the sexual abuse aspect of men’s motive has had a large impact on the definitions of the concept serial killer, which has often completely dismissed women as perpetrators because the definitions include sexual attacks, violence, and torture."

"women serial killers are usually more organised and leave little to no trace behind and tend to have longer criminal careers. they are usually calm before and after they have committed their crimes and are known as ‘quiet killers’."

"...50% of women serial killers use poison such as arsenic, bleach, and succinylcholine, as their weapon of choice followed by suffocation used by 26.6% of the women serial killers."

"men’s murder weapons of choice include firearms and hands-on methods...these hands-on methods are often used by men because of their need to show strength and assert dominance."

"according to the FBI women have accounted for 75% of victims in serial homicide cases since 1985 but make up only about 22% of victims in homicide cases...in sexually motivated killings, 70% of victims are women."

"...demonstrate the misogynistic aspect of serial killings...heard about how the victims of serial killers and r*pists are often women sex workers which are approximately 18 times more likely to be victims of a serial killer than those who do not..."

"...because of a racial and classist problem that police prioritise missing white middle class women instead of marginalised people (of colour). "

"...the romanticisation of men serial killers...men serial killers have regularly had fans and received floods of love letters. this is somewhat because they are portrayed as these anti-heros and “bad boys” who are excitingly sinister."

"even after Bundy had been arrested for murdering and r*ping over thirty young women and girls(!), he somehow kept his charm on and had a huge fanclub of young women and even got married whilst he was on trial."

"...men being violent is pretty normalised in our societies but women being violent isn’t?"

"women that have romantic heterosexual relationships with serial killers and end up becoming their partners in crime, would rarely have committed these types of crimes if they hadn’t met their partners. on the other hand, the men would probably not have become successful criminals if it wasn’t for their woman acolyte."

"...many of these crimes disproportionately affect marginalised peoples and women, it also shows the importance of dismantling and rebuilding a system that does not protect us all."

source:

https://thisisgendered.org/entry/serial-killer/

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wrongpublishing · 1 year

Text

BOOK REVIEW: CARSON WINTER'S SOFT TARGETS

by Elizabeth Broadbent, Staff Writer.

You have worked a shit job.

We don’t know each other. We don’t have to, because we’ve all done it. I worked at a hotel in Myrtle Beach which shall remain nameless (it was that really really huge purple one at the end of the strip that has since changed ownership so I can say whatever I want without offending the owner, who I can’t offend any more than I already have anyway because Reasons.) People, mostly Midwesterners, spent a lot of cold, hard cash on this vacay. Pause. Imagine the people that drop cold, hard cash on a very expensive resort vacation . . . in Myrtle Beach. If you don’t understand the meaning of this statement, please watch this video.

I alternately answered phones and took reservations—we were not allowed to get up, speak to one another, read books, etc. in between phone calls—or was roundly abused at the front desk by people who claimed they’d seen a roach on the ninth floor and demanded a free week’s vacation (newsflash: we had no roaches, and anyway, how the fuck would the roaches make it up nine floors, the goddamn elevator?!)

There were days when I prayed for a death that would not come.

Except what if it would?

What if you were working that Target/Wal-Mart/Piggly-Wiggly register and you could make it all end?

And not in, like, a permanent sense. In a temporary way. Maybe even in a blaze of gory glory. Didn’t you always wanna kill that bitch from accounting who ratted you out for reading under the table? Didn’t you always sorta/kinda/maybe wanna kick that customer in the crotch? Truthbomb: if you are the lady who refused to use our keycards and made staff members let you into your room every single time you left, I wanted to punch that hooker-red lipstick off your face (and no offense to sex workers, ‘cause I wear hooker-red lipstick all the time).

Carson Winter’s Soft Targets imagines . . . yeah, you could do all that. Then you could wake up, consequence-free, roll out of bed, and return to that shit job in the morning. What if some days just didn’t count? What if you figured out which they were, and you . . . did whatever?

Sign my ass up.

Our nameless narrator (yeah, he’s nameless; I checked, and Carson says I’m not the first to ask, so I felt like less of a dumbass) has this buddy, Ollie. He and Ollie are the dark-humor type. Y’all read horror, so you have that buddy. You know, the one you sit around with and say something like, “Okay, so when the zombies come/the aliens arrive/the serial killer breaks in, what do you do?” I mean like, hello job description, writers. Except their conversation revolves around workplace shootings, because, well, their data-entry job sucks ass.

Don’t pretend you wouldn’t do it.

Don’t worry it’s too macabre for you, either. I thought it would be—I approached this one with kid gloves, since my husband works in a place where, here in the grand ol’ USA, people execute elaborate shootings, then others offer #thoughtsandprayers. But when our nameless narrator begins musing on shattering windows with staplers, or perhaps a copy machine—would the kneecap break be worth it?—I was in.

These dudes endure the tedium . . . then discover a way to break free. But are there consequences to living without consequences? I just described every F. Scott Fitzgerald story ever, so if you sat through sophomore English, do the math (unless, like me, you failed it, but if you did, you probably know what I’m talking about, anyway._

It reads fast. As usual with Winter, the voice is impeccable (any read him in Split/Scream 1 by Dreadstone Press? Hot damn). His talent with characterization shows not only with the main characters, but the side peeps as well: I know Kayla and Wayne. I wish I didn’t. As for setting: please take me away from your bachelor pads. I’ve seen enough of them. They were very vivid.

He also sticks the landing. He really, really sticks the landing.

I loved this creepy little romp. Yeah, I called it a romp. It’s a wicked little fantasy, this juicy piece of what-if. Definitely worth picking up. I liked it as much as I’ve liked Winter’s other work, which is to say a hell of a lot.

Links:

Carson Winter (Instagram): @ wintercarson

Carson Winter (Twitter): @ CarsonWinter3

Tenebrous Press (Instagram): @ tenebrouspress

Tenebrous Press (Twitter): @ tenebrouspress

#review #fiction #horror novel #horror novels #book review #horror lit #gothic lit #horror fiction #indie horror #indie novel #indie press

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falsebooles123 · 2 years

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Diary of a Horror Buff 8.29.22

Ugh bitches I just got a new car. well new to me. I am filled with an absense of emotion. Do you ever look at your life and you don't really feel excited for anything just anxious about the new stress that it will introduce to yourself???? maybe theres something wrong with me?

well fuck that heres some gifs of music cars.

it turns out that I can't think off of a lot of pop songs about driving cars that are also a metaphor for fucking.

anyway fuck this lets talk about what I watched last night.

Dressed to Kill (1980) dir. Brian de Palma

OK so I didn't HATE this.

but lets be honest it is problamatic.

so dressed to kill is one of those thrillers that came out were woopsie doodle the serial killer just so happens to be trans, (and/or suffering form DoD, they get conflated, (and patholigized), a lot).

So unlike say Silence of the Lambs this one focuses a lot less on the whole tranvestite serial killer bit and is just more about following around a hooker who witnessed the first murder.

also this movie is super fucking horny. It literally starts with a woman fingering herself in a shower, For me it says hey titties in case anyone forgot what they look like. To be honest there is a very deliberate conflation between sexuality and violence in this film thats not subtle. Also a lot of repressed women sexuality but luckily that one chick gets DICKED DOWN before she gets brutally murdered.

This is a giallo-lite thriller with lots of titties, violence, and honestly a lot of stuff that did not age well. So now you know.

youtube

Midnight Snack (2014) dir. David Romero

ok so apparently David Romero is on Tumblr. Badass.

So first can I just say that I love everything about this. The protaganist, the classic style ghost story, his animation style. Like he did a 3d modeled set that he hand animated over I mean who doesn't fucking love that. Mother fucking icon.

youtube

The Clockwork Elves (2020) dir. Nick Cross

"[[Content warning:: Contains flashing imagery, cartoon violence & sexuality]]

The Clockwork Elves could be a pyschotropic exploration of spirituality and death - or it could be a tale of a little goofball hopped up on goofballs. Either way - it's a cartoon."

Ok this was an absolute fucking bop, imagine over the garden wall, ( I've never actually seen OTGW, my ex boyfriend and my desire to do mouth stuff was greater then watching quality television). but set to an acid trap song and trippy visuals.

congradulations this is like a beginners friendly episode of Midnight Gospel.

ok did anyone ever finish that show, I tried watching it but my brain literally melted.

ok I still feel bad for not watching it but in my defense my ex boyfriend was really hot.

youtube

LÍNEA 17 (2021) dir. Diego García Figueroa

oh I love a good subway horror. I mean one of these days I'll watch midnight meat train.

So this is a short film anout a young woman in latin america who is riding the subway when the lights flicker and some creepy monster starts stalking her.

this was definetly a great little short film and I had a lovely time watching it.

youtube

Undress Me ALTER (2017) dir. Amelia Moses

Content Warning: Gore, Blood, Self-Harm, Akward Virgin Sex.

We stan an akward queen.

Homegirl is just throwing herself at that dick but like at the same time like relatable like it totally reminds me of the first couple times I've fucked and like its awkward. You either come off to strong, (or like the first time), it takes us watching the entirity of Always Be My Maybe before they kiss me.

I'm just saying if you don't grab my ass by the 34 minute mark I'm doing something wrong.

this was the only relevent thing that came up when I typed in "Netflix and Chill" which accurate but still.

Ok but actually plot time chick gets that dick and goes and then proceeds to get that pryon disease from Cabin Fever so theres a lot of body horror and gore.

ok there are not a lot of good clips from that movie on here apparently.

youtube

Limp CRYPT TV (2019) dir. Benjamin Baraad

Honestly fuck the demons thats just how people treat people that have non visuable disabilities.

also I love how this girl is literally dealing with suddenly becoming disabled and her mom is like OMG how did you get a D In math. like fuck your disablities and the things that make you happy.

omfg

"you lied to me alyssa IM JUST HAPPY YOUR FATHER ISN'T ALIVE TO SEE WHAT YOUR'VE BECOME".

WHAT DID SHE BECOME BITCH, SOMEBODY WHOS OVERCOMING STRUGGLES AND UNFAIRNESS IN LIFE. EAT A COOKIE AND CHOKE ON IT.

but also that demon is also kinda a bitch just saying.

youtube

Sinner Circus (2013) dir. Jon Kondelik, James Kondelik

one of my favorite crypt tv shorts.

I will never apoligize for enjoying media in which people get revenge on there abusers.

Also we stan a carnie that speaks entirely in rhymes.

youtube

Occupied CRYPT TV (2015) dir. Mitchell Kerby, Taylor Kerby

"I've been alive 20 years and I still don't know what to do when someone knocks on the door when I'm using it" - that one tweet.

so yeah this is the sotry of a hot guy having to use the bathroom and this rude ghost keeps banging on the stall. Like ghost bruh if you he wanted to cruise he would have sucked your dick by now.

youtube

My House ALTER (2020) dir. Alexander Edep

ok so we love the vibes. surburbia horror vibes and fucked up board game mechanics, whats not to love.

what a lovelingly fucked up movie we stan.

youtube

Carol Anne is Dead (2009) dir. Michael Robinson

ok this is basically a family home movie recreation of Poltergeist, everyones favorite blockbuster horror.

supposedly Michael Robinson "rid[es] the fine lines between humor and terror, nostalgia and contempt, ecstasy and hysteria."

so I assume that this type of strange home video is an intentional post modern interpretation of nostaglia and childhood.

either that or somenbodies random ass home movie just reached cinema status.

youtube

Rapunzel (2018) dir. Hans Stjernswärd

Ok home girl was like sorry I'm just trying to get dicked down and her home girls are OMG but why can't you party with us.

I'm just saying homegirl had perfectly fine prioties.

so as far as I can gather this is a series of films that were meant to be modern horror adaptations of Fairy Tales, with the Little Mermaid being another one of these.

Honestly I'm rooting for these two and will won't to see a feature length movie of this at my next earliest convience.

anyway whores thats all the movies for today. We have two more days of this before the challenge is over.

#david romero #diary #horror #horrormovies #horror shorts #Youtube

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merakiui · 3 years

Note

For Halloween I wanna submit an idea

Chuckie! Scaramouche. Imagine you got the realistic life size doll as decoration and to prank your friends this coming Halloween, you put it in the living room because you're not done decorating and you need to eat dinner, when you get back it's not where you left it. Weird but you brush it off as your imagination.

"hmm you're really handsome for a doll," you say while staring at it and brushing his soft hair.

You take care of the doll as much as you can especially with the antique state it's in. You try to revive it because it actually looks good and it might sell for a good price after you've used it.

But in doing so weird things start happening in your life. Ppl that you don't like getting killed or people who're not nice to you murdered! Odd the news say there's a serial killer on the loose. It scares you so you stay at home more.

Until one day, when you accidentally wake up in the middle of the night and come upon the doll walking around your home like a living human being

- Applepie 🍎 anon

(cw: yandere, brief descriptions of blood/bite mark, mention of implied death/murder)

I feel like a doll/chucky Scaramouche would be similar to the Warrens’ Annabelle doll and how it acted before it was sealed in the case. He looks so cute and innocent and human-like on the surface, but beneath that there’s so much hatred and cruelty. I imagine doll!Scara to be made of porcelain or another material that could be broken easily, which makes him seem very fragile, but when he’s moving around your house at night he’s anything but fragile. When he’s hurting the people who wronged you and disposing of anyone who comes between the precious life he shares with you, he’s far more than a simple porcelain doll. You’re always so considerate when you handle him, brushing his hair so it won’t tangle, fixing his cute hat whenever it starts to slip, and even cleaning the dried specks of blood off of his face. How nice of you. <3

Ooh, imagine how angry he gets if someone tries to take him away from you. Imagine you have that one stupid friend who jokes that you’re too old for dolls and that he’s an eyesore in your home—that he won’t fit in with the decor after Halloween is over and has an overall creepy vibe. Those types of typical complaints. This isn’t a horror movie, though. Your doll might be old, but it isn’t haunted.

You’re arguing with your friend that Scara is a very handsome antique doll and that it doesn’t matter if he won’t ‘fit in with the decor.’ You’re just happy to have him in the house, which is apparently a weird thing to say because your friend recoils as if burned and tells you, “You talk about that thing as if it’s alive.” And that’s true. He is alive. He moves around a lot, mainly when you’re sleeping or out of the house. You just never seem to notice and if you do you brush it off, simply chalking it up to the frights and spooky happenings that come with Halloween night as it draws nearer and nearer on the calendar.

But your friend’s interference doesn’t end there. Imagine they grab him and you freak out because he’s fragile! He could break! He was also expensive! And your friend is waving him around as if he’s nothing but a rag doll meant to be destroyed. Scara’s hat falls off and his head is being jostled uncomfortably with the motion. And maybe it’s just your imagination—maybe things get a little too heated between you and your friend, and you can’t focus on anything but the loud shouting match—but your friend’s angry yelling dissolves into a surprised scream seconds later. They drop Scaramouche at once and you just manage to catch him in your arms before he can hit the ground.

Then you see it.

Bright red flecks of blood are spattered on his face, right on the area where his lips are painted into a disapproving frown, and when you glance at your friend you can see they’re cradling their hand. The bite mark isn’t too deep, but it’s definitely there and your body moves on autopilot after you set Scara down on a nearby chair. You try to tend to your friend, holding up bandages and gauze and insisting that you help them, but they draw back from you. Their eyes are locked on the doll and the blood staining his fair, porcelain skin, as if they expect him to lunge at them and sink his nonexistent teeth into their arm.

“Your crazy doll bit me...” they mutter. “It bit me.”

“That’s not—I mean, there’s no way! It’s just a doll. You probably cut yourself or...or something.”

“Are you seriously defending it?” Their head snaps over to stare at you with wide, disbelieving eyes. “Does this look like a cut to you?" They shove their bleeding hand in your face. “Well, does it? Tell me it’s a cut. Tell me this isn’t a bite mark and that that stupid doll didn’t just try to feast on my hand!”

You can’t offer a suitable excuse to that because it's not a cut, no matter how much you try to convince yourself otherwise. It’s undeniably a bite mark. Something bit your friend, but to shove the blame onto a doll, of all things... Your friend doesn’t bother sticking around, leaving without even tending to their wound, and you’re left alone in your house with the doll. It stares listlessly at you, almost as if peering into your very soul, and you do what you can to clean it as quickly as possible. Then you place it on the highest shelf and leave it at that. Out of sight, out of mind.

You refuse to think a doll, especially a porcelain one at that, could ever be able to bite a human. He doesn’t have a mouth that can open, so it’s absolutely impossible that he��d have teeth sharp enough to pierce flesh. No way. Not possible at all.

Scaramouche sits on that shelf, waiting. Watching. No longer mired in your friend’s foul, metallic blood. That’s another nuisance out of the way, but he’s certain there are more to come. If he’s learned anything from his painfully long existence, it’s that issues arise from other issues. Who’s to say your other friends won’t try something like that? What if one of them actually does separate him from you? What happens then?

The next morning you wake and the sun is shining down on the autumn scenery outside, you’re bundled up under the cozy duvet, and the room is unnaturally chilly. But it’s a new day. You can put yesterday’s horrors behind you. Your friend hasn’t responded to any of your messages yet and you assume they’ve blocked your number or are simply ghosting you. It’s understandable, but it does sting a little.

You pull the blankets off and get out of bed, and that’s when something catches your eye. Lying there on his back with his head on the pillows, on the spot directly next to you on the bed as if he’s your human lover, is the doll.

For the first time since you got him, you start to question whether or not all of this ‘moving around at night’ nonsense is actually true. And when you wake up in the middle of one fateful night to light footsteps in the hallway, right outside your door, your heart stops. You live alone; you don’t have any pets. And if it’s not an intruder, who else could it be?

You’ll find out soon enough because the door knob is rattling and the door is slowly creaking open...

#applepie 🍎 anon #aaa yesyes please send more halloween asks!! orz #meraki faves #because this concept is very spooky and *chef's kiss*#omg imagine if he was doll-sized instead of life-sized #you could just punt him like a ball and problem solved :D #regardless!! i have many thoughts about this idea now #like if this idea was put in a context like the movie 'the boy'#omg i'll be quiet in the tags before i write more and more lol #genshin chit chat

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writingwithcolor · 3 years

Text

Aracial deity, coping mechanisms for mourning, Kitsune/South Asian aesthetics (???)

TW: Brownface, fetishization, dehumanization

[Redacted] said:

Hi, i have i bit of a weird question. I have a story where the main character is a genderless aracial deity of death made of light, who was created by the grim reaper/death itself to take care of earthlings, has been alive since the beggining, takes human forms and has dated women throughout history, but always outlives her girlfriends (since she can't make them immortal bc that'd mess up everything, she just has to let them go) but as a way of remembering them, changes her appearance to look more like them (but still with a touch and sense of her own identity) so she's had a LOT of different forms and appearances, multiple skintones, hair types, etc. (At the moment she has a kitsune-esc/south Asian aesthetic due to her last girlfriend being japanese and loving the legend) Would that be problematic? Like, drastically changing apperance and skintones and stuff y'know. I love this little story of mine, i just want to make sure I'm not being an idiot, and I'm willing to change things if needed. Sorry if that's a dumb thing to ask ksskdkkckdks

WTH

Wearing the skins of loved ones sounds very creepy, not comforting at all, and makes me think of serial killers - not a mourning lover. You can drastically change someone’s appearance without literally wearing their skin (I don’t even want to think about how she gets them). There are much better ways to honour someone, such as keeping mementos, and these can be specific to the deceased’s culture.

- SK

Did the girlfriend have any other traits/interests that weren’t the most stereotypical and weeb-appropriated legend ever? My recommendation: talk to A Japanese person. Any Japanese person will do

~Mod Rina

Coping Mechanism for Mourning?

I’m not Asian, but personally do not like this at all.

This has the essence of a lot of problematic things.

Brownface

Fetishization

Dehumanization (Wearing the skins of dead PoC, literally, like a conquested animal)

There are other ways to honor and remember loved ones who have passed on:

How about keeping an image of MC in a locket, a portrait, or photograph?

Depending on available technology, keeping a video(s) to watch & remember

Keeping belongings they left to MC (like a piece of jewelry, making a memory box)

Having a day to reflect and remember them on (e.g. anniversary of death or wedding, their birthday, memorial day celebrations.)

Visiting their gravestone or a memorial, leaving flowers or offerings

Planting and nourishing a tree or perennial plant in their memory

Visiting a place that was special to the lover or to them the couple

Honoring any wishes they asked of MC

You know, the tried and true methods of honoring the dead without wearing their skins.

~ Mod Colette

Trace your logic

There’s a lot to unpack here, but I think first and foremost, it’s best to trace the logic of your protagonist from a first person perspective.

You are an immortal being.

You long for connection, but all of your intimate relationships are tinged with tragedy because you will always outlive the person you are close to.

As a way of coping with having your loved ones taken from you, you adopt their appearance after their death until you find a new object of your affection because...Why?

How does approximating the action of wearing the skin of a loved one bring about feelings of comfort? To me, this sounds immensely traumatizing. I can imagine few things worse than waking up everyday to see a face resembling someone I loved who is now dead looking back at me.

If anything, this sounds like a curse. In fact, given all the undertones fetishizing brown-face/ yellow-face/ black-face what have you, I almost feel the only way this story works is as a curse.

- Marika.

Kitsune/South Asian aesthetics (???)

Why are we combining the “kitsune aesthetic” with a “South Asian aesthetic”? If her girlfriend was Japanese, then where did the “South Asian aesthetic” even come from?

- SK

I’m with the other mods on this. You may need to rethink the story so that you’re not generalizing all of South Asia.

- Jaya

Also, as someone both South Asian and Japanese, I am unclear as to what you mean by a kitsune/ South Asian aesthetic. I suspect you mean a person with South Asian features with some Japanese pop culture reference that you think is a “kitsune” aesthetic. However, two problems. Kitsune just means fox in Japanese. There are a variety of fox imagery associated with many Japanese myths, rather than a singular aesthetic. Secondly, South Asia has a ton of racial/ ethnic diversity, so there is no “South Asian” look.

In other words:

[Image description: The gif depicts Inigo Montoya from the Princess bride: a man with shoulder length brown hair saying “You keep using that word. I do not think it means what you think it means.”]

- Marika.

#tw brownface #tw fetishization #tw dehumanization #mourning and loss #bad coping skills #WWC #asks #How do I tag for this?

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battlemaiden13 · 2 years

Note

What are the Lust bros and the Mafia skeletons like as yandere's?

WARNING: NSFW, mentions of Blood, gore and implied Rape. Please don’t read if you are uncomfortable with this or just skip Lust and Charm

Roulette -Right Place Right Time type. He is also very much into stalking but uses it to make him seem like he is always in the right place at the right time. What better way to make his crush fall for him than being their hero whenever they need him. Plus the stalking helps with his job.

Sniper -Innocent Type. Unlike Yandere Blue whose innocence is all an act Sniper actually doesn’t think what he's doing is wrong or bad in any way, in fact he considers it normal and doesn’t understand that he might be the bad guy. He doesn’t try to manipulate people but won’t hide his Yandere side

Colt -The Blood Thirsty Type. For the most part he actually appears normal but if a drop of blood falls in his vicinity he sort of snaps. Think maniacal laughter followed by slashing up a body or beating someone to death to watch their blood splatter across the wall. He definitely has a blood kink

Musket -The Numb Type. Can’t feel anything and never has. He is completely numb inside and doesn’t have any feelings nor understand them. He speaks in a monotone voice and never has any real opinions on anything

Carbine -The Overcompensator. He is trying so desperately to seem normal that it is obviously clear something is terribly wrong with the monster. Some people fall for his act but the more you are with him the clearer it is that there is something not quite right and definitely creepy here.

Rifle -The Serial Killer Type. You know, he’s very charming and almost seems like there is nothing wrong with him at all but he definitely has a bunch of dead bodies cut up into his garage. He gets urges to kill and is actually very famous but keeps eluding the police much to his amusement.

Lust -The sexual pursuer. He feels empty inside so will try to fill the void with sex and a lot of it. He will try basically anything because during the act he feels something that isn’t nothing and that’s good enough for him. He is a big part of the sex scene and has done basically everything.

Charm -The Selfish type. Will do anything if it means that he might feel something even if it leads to someone else's death or just ruins their life. He doesn’t take anyone else's feelings into consideration and will just keep taking and taking until he has had enough.

#undertale #yandere #house of yandere #mafiatale #mafiatale sans #mafiatale papyrus #mafiafell #mafiafell papyrus #mafiafell sans #underlust #undertail #underlust sans #underlust papyrus

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darkficsyouneveraskedfor · 4 years

Text

scopaesthesia 👁️ chapter 1

Warnings: nonconsensual sex, mentions of death, murder, violence, stalking, paranoia and other warnings to be added

This is dark!Bucky Barnes with a likelihood off dark!Steve Rogers as well and explicit. Your media consumption is your own responsibility. Warnings have been given. DO NOT PROCEED if these matters upset you.

Summary: Someone’s watching you.

Note: This one’s gonna be a bit creepy as it features a serial killer and stalking and all sorts of creepery. It’ll be about two or three parts!

Thank you. Love you guys!

As always, if you can, please leave some feedback, like and reblog <3

The bleak headline glared across your screen as bleaker weather fogged the glass of your window.

'Grisly murder suspected to be connected to previous incident'.

You shivered as the steam rose from your mug and the smell of roasted bean filled your nose. The city was on edge. Death was not unfamiliar but killings so methodical were. There was a pattern that no one could deny, even if the media left out certain bloody details.

You tapped the porcelain and turned to look at the misty cityscape beyond your building. The city had a pulse; the car horns, the puffing manholes, the endless parade of footsteps on the pavement. The immortal metropolitan was unaffected by its mortal occupants.

You closed the window on your phone as you turned back. You couldn’t finish the article. To think that any human could do that to another; that any should suffer at the hands of another… One could never truly be immune to the helpless despair. It was a chance that set one in the hands of a monster, as much chance kept one from the same fate.

You finished your coffee and ate a bagel before you readied for another day lost in the sea of people below. Another day at your desk answering phones and staring at a screen between greeting many who acknowledge your existence with impatient disdain.

The same daily ritual in the mirror; another department store blouse, another grey skirt, another pair of low pumps. You grabbed your pea coat and your leather tote and hurried out to catch your train. Twenty minutes with your favourite podcast before you pulled the cord and ran off into the concrete jungle.

Another coffee at your desk; the watery fare from the staff room machine. You sat and began your work. Fake smiles and a sickly sweet voice for every caller and visitor to the small office. Log this, change this, email that. The mindless toil bearable only for the promise of your box-like apartment and its tiny comforts.

You never stayed in the office for lunch. Not anymore. It made the days suffocating, even on rainy or snowy days. You went to the park to eat, although sometimes you weren’t hungry. You watched the ducks or the shedding trees or the teens playing hooky and puffing none so subtly near the bushes.

When you returned, you felt at least that your break hadn’t been wasted even if it had only been more sitting. Ring, ring, click, click, tap, tap, cough, cough. The hours wore on in monotony. Nothing unexpected, nothing more than tedium. The most exciting part was when the clock bid you to leave.

You were almost so lost in the endless banality that you didn’t notice the man behind you until you boarded the train. Until you sat and took out your phone. You pretended to be enraptured by the screen as you scrolled through unread emails and peeked up at him. He stood by the door. His eyes avoided yours.

When you stood at your stop, he did not move. Not until the door began to close and you were near the turnstiles. His shadow was a fleck at the edge of your vision. He was definitely following you. You thought of the article, and its precursor the week before; the suggestion that the murderer had already amassed half a dozen victims. You shrugged away the paranoia and climbed the old filthy steps to ground level.

As you turned the corner onto your street you stopped and waited. The man nearly passed you as he came around the bend and you cleared your throat. You gripped your keys in your fist, ready to stab the man with the largest one.

“You following me?” You asked as pedestrians bumped into him and passed by.

He moved out of their path and stood beside you against the wall. He smiled to himself and scoffed. His blue eyes ran you up and down and you felt as if you’d seen him before. As if you knew him from somewhere. You just couldn’t place it.

“I am.” He confessed. “You’re very… observant.”

“You’re not very subtle,” you countered.

He lifted his head and reached inside his jacket. He pulled out his wallet and flipped it open. Capitals ran across the top; S.H.I.E.L.D. and below a name and picture; James Buchanan Barnes. You sighed and crossed your arms. Your spine went rigid. What on earth could he want from you?

“So…” You pushed yourself away from the brick wall, “How exactly can I help a government operative?”

He glanced around and tucked away his wallet. “Is there anywhere private we can talk? You live around here?”

“Private? At least tell me what’s going on?” You huffed.

“For both our safety, you need to wait for that answer,” he hook his thumb in his jean pocket. “But if you don’t give a shit, I can leave you be and see what happens.”

You frowned. You were confused and slightly afraid. You couldn’t guess at what could have brought him to you. A man you’d only ever seen on a screen.

“Fine,” you adjusted your bag on your shoulder, “Across the street.”

He followed you to the curb as the blood swelled in your ears. Your cheeks were hot and a chill gripped your neck. You crossed between the flooded New York traffic, aware of his shadow at your shoulder. His boots barely made a noise on the pavement as your short heels clicked noisily.

You led him into your lobby and fumbled with your keys. You shoved them into the slot and the door clicked open. He grabbed it before you could and waved you inside. You remembered him now. You rarely saw him without another. In your mind, the man didn’t exist exclusive to his old pal, Steve Rogers.

You stopped just inside the door and kept yourself from hitting the elevator button.

“Mr., er, Agent Barnes--” You began.

“Bucky is fine.” He corrected

“How do you even know who I am?” You asked suddenly. “I’m… nobody.”

“As I said, I’d prefer somewhere private,” he urged, “It’s protocol for this type of circumstance.”

“And which type is that?” You challenged as he stepped around you and hit the button.

“The type where you should stop worrying so much about me and more about yourself,” he said as the doors slid open, “Come on.” He stepped inside and turned, “What floor.”

“Third.” You answered as you entered the small box, “I’m in danger?”

He was quiet and his left hand balled into a fist then released as he stared at the numbers. You could hear the strain in the leather glove.

When the doors opened again, he let you off first and kept a step behind you as you led him down the hall to your door. You paused and looked back at him as you picked out the right key. He was impossible to figure out; stone-faced and staunch. You opened your door and welcomed him in with a flutter of fingers.

He shut the door and locked it behind him. You dropped your bag on the shoe rack and kicked your shoes beneath it. Your arches were sore as you backed up and watched him. He looked at his boots and back at you. You shrugged off your jacket and he sighed before he did the same. He reluctantly knelt to unknot the laces of his boots.

“Should I… get you something? Coffee?”

“This isn’t exactly social,” he uttered, “Can we sit? There’s a lot to… explain.”

“Sure,” you led him to the couch and sat. He lowered himself on the other cushion, on the edge as he kept an eye on you.

“Okay, so you’re first question, how do I know who you are?”

He leaned against the arm and dug out his phone. He unlocked it and flicked through its content. He turned it towards you and you frowned at the picture of yourself. You behind your desk, the phone to your ear, as you scribbled on your notepad. He dragged it over and another appeared; you at the grocery store. A third, you at the front door of your building.

“What--”

“These were found at a crime scene.” He interjected. He flipped his phone and searched through the images, “Do you know this woman?”

He showed you the screen again and you shook your head. Whoever she was, she was a stranger to you, although you couldn’t say she didn’t look familiar.

“Her?” He brought up another photo and got the same answer. Three more times as the hair stood on your arms. You didn’t know any of them but they all looked alike. They all looked like you.

“What’s going on?” You asked in a brittle voice.

“You read the news?”

“Sometimes.”

“You’ve heard about the murders? Of the women?”

You nodded and gulped. Your eyes rounded as you trembled in disbelief and fear. “Why are you here though? Why not the cops?”

“They are doing their part and we’re doing ours. You see, we found more than just the photos. Due to security protocols and to protect both of all, I can’t divulge all the evidence I can only say that it brings it under S.H.I.E.L.D. jurisdiction.”

His thumb slid across the screen and revealed another picture. One of the women with a welt across her neck and sloppily down make-up on her face. You blanched and he looked down. He cleared his throat and blackened the screen.

“Sorry,” he put his phone back in his pocket. “You shouldn’t… Look, I know it’s a lot to digest but it’s better you know.”

“But why are you here? I don’t understand… why did he have my picture?”

“From what we can tell, who it is has been following you. These killings seem to be steps on his path to you. He didn’t have anything about the other women. No photos, no writings--”

“Writings?” You gasped.

“Take a breath. Be calm.” He said. “I’m here now. To protect you.”

“How are you going to do that?”

“Well, I guess that’s the real bad news.” He said. “I’m gonna be your shadow. Now, since we nearly got this guy and have all his stuff, we know he’s scrambling right now. He’s hiding, waiting to come back to you but we know he’s not dumb enough to do it yet. Which is why I am here at this very moment. When he does return, when he’s watching you, I’ll be watching him.”

“You can’t-- You can’t move me?”

“Scaring him away won’t do anything. You’re safer if we can catch this guy. We can’t let him know that anything’s changed.” Bucky said.

“So… I’m bait?”

“You’re safe.” He insisted. “You’ll have my number, you can call me anytime. And I won’t be far. Not really. And I don’t work alone. You’ll be protected.”

“Why are you telling me then if you’re just going to let him keep following me?”

“Well, we waited until it was crucial to let you know,” he said, “And given his desperate circumstance, we think you should now.”

“Do you know how long--”

“Months, years, we’re still combing through the evidence. We only know he won’t stop.” He shifted on the couch. “And I’m telling you because there’s a few things I need from you.”

“Like what?” You scoffed.

“A key to this place. Just in case. And we’ll need to keep a close eye on you. That means, you’ll have to wear a bug and we’ll be tracking your location.”

“What?” You shook your head. “That’s… a lot.”

“We need to know if anything happens immediately and we need to be able to get to you. If you do this, it will help us get him sooner and hopefully, that means that you won’t have to do it for long.”

“I’ll have to have the key made,” you said quietly.

“I can take care of that,” he stood and you watched him cross the room.

He went to the coat rack and reached into your jacket pocket. He took your keys and set his phone on the small round table just beside the shoes. He placed one key on his screen and it made a chirping noise, he turned it over before doing the second key. He dropped them back into your pocket and grabbed his phone.

“This,” he stirred around in his own jacket, “Has a mic and tracker.” He held up the golden chain with the small pink rose ornament. “Wear this and that’s it. That’s all we need. If you take it off, hang it somewhere it won’t be obstructed.”

“Okay,” you got up slowly and took the necklace from him, “Um, thank you, I guess.”

“Look, I know it’s all a bit fucked up but it’s to keep you safe.” He said. “And you are safe, okay? I’ve dealt with much worse than this creep.”

👁️

There was rarely a morning when you were eager to be awake but that morning came crashing down on you with a sense of doom. You rolled over and opened your eyes. The golden necklace hung from your bedside lamp, dangling, calling to you, reminding you of the man who had stalked you back to your apartment. And the other man who loomed in the shadows. A stranger who apparently knew you well.

You sat up and clipped the necklace around your neck so you wouldn’t forget. Was it Bucky listening to you? Was he even listening so early? You stood and ambled across the room with a yawn. Today, the rain left a sheet of frost on the window. Was it winter so soon?

You drank your coffee without tasting it and chewed on a piece of buttered toast. Your phone buzzed. Private number was all it said but you knew who it was.

‘What time do you leave?’ Bucky asked. You typed in the number and nothing more. He already knew which train you took.

You dressed as you did every day. You pulled the necklace over the collar of your shirt and sighed. You felt awkward as if you were living in a simulation; a facsimile of your meek existence.

Ready to face the day and the unknown, you set out as you flicked away another message; ‘You have a break? What time?’ You’d answer him after you got to work. You couldn’t be staring at your phone knowing that someone was undoubtedly watching you.

You stood on the train, too antsy to sit. You waited by the door, ready to bolt off at the slightest sign of trouble. You played with the rose charm without thinking. Your phone buzzed and you quickly drew your fingers away.

Another message from your private caller. 'There's disturbance on the mic. Stop touching.' You almost laughed. It was comical. You'd be an awful spy but you weren't anything close. You were prey.

What would have happened if those pictures had not been discovered? You hated to even think of it. So you pushed away the thought and got off the train.

The streets felt darker even as the grey sky paled. Pedestrians were villains, each one sinister and plotting. When you got to work, you were out of breath as you had nearly broken into a sprint.

You sat and clocked in. You took out your phone and responded to the texts but got nothing back. You hung your jacket on the rack in the corner and went about your usual routine but nothing felt usual. The incessant ringing of the phone and the chatter of the office added to the chaos of your mind. You tried to distract yourself with your work but found yourself fidgety and anxious. Every unfamiliar face that walked through the doors was a potential suspect.

When you took your lunch, you stayed in the office. The break room was empty as you sat and your phone vibed in your blazer pocket. You answered the private number and unwrapped your granola bar.

“You on lunch?” Bucky asked, you confirmed with a mumble. “Are you okay?”

“Am I? What’s going on? Anything?” You stilled the crinkling of the wrapper, suddenly sick to your stomach.

“It’s not going to be that easy or fast. Right now, he’s waiting for us to look away but he could also be in a panic which means he could do something impulsive.” Bucky explained.

“Impulsive? What does that mean?”

“Look, you don’t need to be afraid. I got this. This is nothing compared to what I usually--”

“Nothing?! Well maybe you’re used to this but I’m just a secretary, okay? I don’t know what I’m doing or what to do!” Your voice was shrill as you crushed the granola bar in your hand.

“Take a breath,” he said firmly. “Calm down and proceed as usual. I’m here. I’m watching.”

You sniffed and struggled not to hyperventilate. When you finally got your breathing under control you nodded into the phone and murmured a pathetic ‘okay’.

“Hey, you don’t need to be afraid, okay? Not with me around. So far you’ve been lucky. We figured it out before he got to you and now we’re way ahead of him and he doesn’t even know it.” Bucky coaxed.

“Yeah, I guess,” you deflated and stood from the table; restless.

You went to the kettle and flicked it on. Shaena was always offering you peppermint tea; you’d take her up on that. Maybe it would help calm you down.

“How about tonight I’ll come buy with a pizza and we can go over protocol?” He offered. “And it’ll be good for you not to be alone.”

“Pizza?” You frowned.

“Well, you know, I’m sitting on surveillance all day, I don’t exactly get to relax,” he explained. “...you can say no but it’d be my treat.”

“I’m sorry I’m panicking. I’m just… scared. I didn’t sleep-- I--” You choked on your voice. “You don’t mind?”

“Do you?” He returned.

You sighed and opened the cupboard to grab a mug. You tapped your fingers on the countertop.

“This must be really boring for you,” you said. “You don’t have to--”

“If I’m being honest with you, it’s supposed to be freezing tonight and I don’t exactly get to hang around in a five star suite. You’d be doing me a favour and have the extra security of some goon with a metal arm.” He chuckled.

“Alright,” you threw your hand up. “But I don’t like pepperoni.”

“Damn…” he uttered, “Well, I guess we all have to make sacrifices.”

👁️

You were slightly less frantic when you left work. Bucky texted you to assure you he was there… somewhere. You took your usual route. He explained it was best not to change your routine. You didn’t want to tip off the creep.

The train ride was slow and jittery. The frigid air of the looming New York winter crept in between the door and you shivered as you got off at your stop. Your heels clicked around you as you gripped your bag and the phone in your pocket. You struggled not to look around and try to search out your stalker.

You unlocked your door and dropped your bag beside the shoe rack. You kicked off your heels and rubbed your legs together to warm up. You hung your jacket and took your phone out as you began to pace your apartment.

How close was Bucky? How close was the killer?

You kept checking your messages and then slammed your phone on the coffee table. Stop! You were driving yourself crazy. You made yourself sit and flipped on the television. You put on an old sitcom and tried to settle in. You squirmed on the couch and found it difficult to follow the episode.

Your phone lit up suddenly and made you flinch. The sky was already dark through the window as your ringer blared over the television. You reached for your cell; Private Number. You answered clumsily and pressed it to your ear.

“Hello?” You rasped.

Silence. You blinked and repeated your greeting. Still, the line was quiet. You shook your head and hung up. Before you could toss your phone, it shook again and cried out a melody. You answered again.

This time heavy breathing greeted you. It got louder as you listened and a trickle of ice rolled over your spine. You ended the call and stared at your phone. A third call. You slowly hit the green icon and then turned the phone to speaker.

“Don’t you ever hang up on me.” A man snarled in a crackly voice, “Ever.”

“Who… who is this?”

“Shhh, baby girl, I won’t hurt you. I just want to make sure you’re safe.” He said, “That’s all I want.”

“Who are you? What do you want?” You gulped.

Another silence. This one long and exaggerated, pierced only by a metallic whisper. “...You,” he purred darkly, “I want you, baby girl. I want your blood, I want your screams.” You shook as you dropped the phone, his voice muffled but his words clear, “I want that precious little cunt.”

You sobbed and bent to grab the phone again. Your thumb hovered over the red button.

“Baby girl, I told you about hanging up on me. I hope that’s not what you’re thinking of now.”

You said nothing as your eyes burned with frightened tears and you looked down at your necklace. Could Bucky hear? Where was he?

“Soon, I promise, we can be together,” the stranger cooed, “You and me. All alone.” He took a deep breath, “All mine.”

“Please, leave me--”

The line clicked and went dead. You stared at your phone and jumped at the sudden knock on the door. Your fingers curled around your cell and you stood. You crossed to the door. You peeked through the peephole. Bucky stood with a pizza box. You opened the door sharply.

“Where were you?” You snapped.

“What?”

“He just called!” You nearly shouted.

“Keep it down,” he warned as he stepped inside and you retreated. He closed the door and locked it. “He called?”

He went to the kitchen and set the pizza down. “Just now?”

“I thought you were listening? I had him on speaker.”

“I… I’ll have to play it back. I was on my way, I didn’t--”

“You-- you-- The things he said,” you croaked, “You can’t imagine and, and… how did he get my number? You said he would be hiding!”

“Well, these things aren’t exactly cookie cutter--”

“What if he’s watching me right now? Looking in through my window and--” Your voice was shrill as you rung your hands and brushed by Bucky. He followed you to the window as you twisted the blinds shut. “He’s going to kill me like he did all those girls. He’s going to--”

“Come on,” Bucky grabbed your arm and pulled you away from the window, “Just breathe.” He turned you to him and placed his hands on your arms. He rubbed them through your blouse. “In, out…” He began to guide you, “On my count; one, in, two, out…”

Your eyes rounded and you struggled to calm yourself. You were shaking but managed to measure your breaths in time with his voice.

“That’s it,” his hands framed your face as he leaned in to look you in the face, “I’m here now and if you need me to, I’ll stay all night.”

You nodded dumbly and grabbed his forearms. His metal thumb stroked your cheek and you slowly pulled his hands away.

“Bucky…” You whispered as he slowly dropped his hands. “Thank you.”

891 notes · View notes

shorkbrian · 3 years

Text

Hooked

I cannot stop thinking about!!! Tendou in the desert. Mainly because I went for a walk and found a bunch of creepy stuff, and Tendou would fit right into the creepy-desert-aesthetic. (also..... he’d be the type to have a meth trailer out in the middle of nowhere lol)

(What to expect - bad writing, a dead body, Tendou being weird. No NSFW)

He’s just absolutely batshit crazy. There’s no explanation for his actions.

Like you go for a walk in the mountains, intent on seeing a beautiful, iconic desert sunset, skies dyed pink, purple, orange and red.

It gets dark faster than you anticipated though, and you’re left trying to stumble back to your car in the pitch black night, temperature quickly dropping.

And of course, you aren’t prepared at all. It’s the desert, it isn’t supposed to get cold. So you’re shivering, freezing, skin going numb, starting to feel a bit sluggish as you wonder how the fuck it’s so fucking cold.

There’s a light off in the distance, maybe your car? Had you left the light on?

Stumbling closer, tripping over rocks and trying to avoid cactus, you try to focus on the light, on the outline. It almost looks too high to be your car.

Then you hit the dirt, foot twisting over a rock, causing you to crash onto your side, landing your hip directly onto a cactus. You screech at the stinging pain that stabs into your hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurts to stand up, and you can’t even assess the damage done, because it’s dark and as soon as you try to feel your hip, sharp spines make you cry out, pulling your hand back.

All that’s left for you to do is cry as you make your way towards the light, hoping, praying it’s your car.

As you limp closer, tears dripping down your face at the pain of the cactus spines, the cold, your now-sore ankle, you quickly discern that the light’s source comes from a house.

Specifically, a trailer.

There’s junk everywhere, piles of it, and you trip over a few stray.... well, you can’t really make out what it is, with how dark it is. But you make it to the door.

And yeah, this is super creepy. You’re out in the middle of nowhere, it’s dark, with no flashlight, no jacket. You’re vulnerable, but you’re so freaking cold, and you think there’s blood on your leg from where you’ve been stabbed with the cactus spines.

You need help.

So you gather up the courage, pray that there’s someone home, that it’s not a serial killer, and knock on the door of the trailer.

There’s a loud thump, high pitched, muffled cursing, then some shuffling. The clicking of locks on the door, and then it swings open, revealing a man holding a shotgun.

Well fuck.

He’s lanky, thin and wirey, wild red hair tangled on top of his head. Large, hooded eyes squint at you sleepily, before the man cocks his head.

“You lost?”

“Uhm, yeah..... hi.” You sniffle out, and the man’s eyes visibly widen as he realizes you’re crying, in nothing but a short sleeve shirt and a pair of pants, standing out in the cold.

The inside of the trailer is warm, and it makes your cheeks, ears, and frozen hands tingle as feeling begins returning to them. How had it gotten so cold in the fucking desert?

The man introduces himself as Tendou Satori, deputy of Shiratorizawa county. He’s not lying to you either, has the badge, the uniform - it even explains the shotgun.

He clicks his tongue when you limp inside, as light falls upon your hip and shows your jeans darkened with blood. Tells you to warm up first, sit in front of the heater vent, then he’ll help you with the cactus.

“What’re you doing way out here? City’s kinda far.”

“I was gonna watch the sunset, take pictures ‘n stuff.” You offered, wrapping the blanket he had provided more firmly around yourself. His gaze makes you uncomfortable, and you’re not sure why. It’s not like he’s going to do anything bad, he’s a police deputy.

His eyes are so flat though, still hooded even though he’s very much awake. Maybe that’s just the way he looks, but it’s a bit creepy.

“Didn’t think it’d get dark as fast as it did? Is that why you were wanderin’ around out there?”

You nodded. “Didn’t know it could get so cold either.”

Tendou chuckles, high pitched, and you wince. He sounds like a creepy funhouse clown when he laughs like that. “Ehehe, lots of people get caught off guard by desert weather. Think it’s hot all the time, can’t even imagine that it gets a bit chilly. You’re lucky I’m posted up here, otherwise you’d be a popsicle by morning!”

He was so nonchalant about the idea of you freezing to death, you didn’t know how to respond.

Luckily, you had warmed up enough to stop shaking, teeth no longer clattering together. Tendou told you to stay put while he got supplies to fix up “Your little owie!”

It was much more than a ‘little’ wound.

The trailer was filled with thick awkwardness as Tendou asked you to peel off your pants so he could get to the spines embedded in your skin. He didn’t seem to understand that you felt a little embarrassed, didn’t even turn his back as you slowly pushed them to your ankles, wincing as they dragged over your bloodied hip.

“Ok-ay! Now, this’ll hurt, so try not to scream a whole bunch, right?”

And then he was digging in with tweezers, delicately extracting cactus spines from your puffy, swollen hip, the side of your butt, your outer thigh.

It hurt, badly, and you started crying again, much to your embarrassment. Tendou didn’t seem to mind, kept his eyes fixed on your bloody leg as he quickly tended to it.

“I’ll be done soon, don’t worry. You’ll have to hydrate a bunch after I’m done though.”

“Why does it hurt so much? Are they poisonous?” You yelped as the man tugged on a particularly painful spine, furrowing his brows in concentration as he pulled it out.

“Oh! It’s cause they’re like little meat hooks.” He looked up at you, smiling, holding his most recent extraction with his tweezers so you could see. “They get pretty attached once they get in you, hehe, but I’ll make you better.”

Forty minutes later had Tendou finishing up, finally deeming you cactus-free after a thorough inspection. He had plucked out the large spines with tweezers, before running his hand over your skin, stilling you when you flinched, explaining that he was feeling for the small needles.

You felt insanely uncomfortable, with his hands and face that close to such an intimate area.

“All do-ne!” The man sang, straightening his back, giving you a gleaming smile. His lips stretched too far over his teeth. “Now, I’ll get you some pants, and some water. You want to sleep in the bed with me? Or on the couch?”

What?

The panicked confusion must be evident on your face, because Tendou cackled, standing up, towering over you.

“Can’t go back out there, you wanna die? Gotta stay until mornin’.”

“The couch please.” The choice was easy, and Tendou nodded, before disappearing through a doorway into a dark room, coming back with an armful of blankets. He tossed a pair of pajama pants at you from the pile, but you hesitated in putting them on.

“Um.... Mr.? Can I have something to wipe off the blood?” It was crusted on your leg, dried and dark brown now.

Tendou turned from making up the couch, blinked at you slowly, looked at your leg. “Guess I should do that!”

You had to wait a bit longer, until he had arranged the couch to his liking, before the strange man fetched a wet washcloth to wipe off your leg with.

It was warm, and he was thorough as he sponged off the blood. The way he licked his lips while doing so made you feel a bit uneasy.

When you were finally clean, you tugged on your new pants quickly, finally feeling a bit more comfortable now that you were no longer exposed.

“Wanna eat before you go to bed? I have-” Tendou bent to shuffle through his fridge. “-Oh! I have applesauce! and crackers! Yum Yum!” Both items were held aloft triumphantly.

Who kept crackers in the fridge?

You just wanted to go to sleep.

“I’m good, thank you though.”

“Okay, beddy-bye time then I guess.” Why did he talk so childishly?

You tried to relax as he turned out the lights, bidding you good night as he shuffled back through the doorway, apparently into his bedroom.

Tomorrow you’d find your car, and everything would be fine.

-----

Tendou was sitting on the couch when you woke up, your bare feet in his lap.

“Good morning~!” His voice was so loud, you were wincing at the volume, at the sunlight streaming through the dingy curtains, at your first good look at his trailer - he’d kept it dark last night, only turning on one light.

It was clean, well, as clean as a trailer could be. Nothing suspicious or worrisome.

“Aren’t you going to say it back?” The man questioned, suddenly leaning far too close, his hand sliding up your calf.

“Oh-uhm-” You stuttered, blushing at the proximity, the foreign touch. “I should go find my car...”

Tendou rolled his eyes, backing off quickly. “Too boring. Also too far. It’ll hurt to walk, you won’t be able to make it.”

You raised an eyebrow, immediately testing out his claim, hissing in pain as soon as you moved your leg.

Apparently, it was swollen and sore.

He was right, walking hurt, and you barely hobbled to the little bathroom without Tendou’s assistance. Maybe he could go find your car and bring it here? It had to be close by, you hadn’t been walking for that long last night...

“So!” Tendou clapped his hands, and you started, almost bumping into him as he stood, leaning over you on the couch. “Tell me about yourself, it’s been so long since I’ve had anyone over. You have a boyfriend? Girlfriend? Where’s your family? I’ve always wanted someone to keep me company here.”

“Woah, wait, what?”

Tendou chuckled, shaking his head. “You’re going to stay here with me now! I think we should get to know each other a bit, don’t you?”

Staying with him? Here? What was going on?

“Um, Mr.-”

“Tendou... or Satori, your choice.” The man interjected, before moving to flop down next to you on the couch.

“Tendou-” You continued. “-I can’t stay here. I need to find my car, and drive back to the city, back to my home. My roommate will be worried...”

“Home is here.” His tone was so matter-of-fact, it shocked you silent.

“You had a roommate though? How fun!!” He chirped, and you didn’t miss the emphasis on “had”. “You ever have sex with them?”

Tendou had moved in a second, pressed to your side, his face too close to yours, and you panicked.

“I gotta go. Really, I’m sorry, thank you for helping me out last night but I need to get going-” You were on your feet, ignoring the pain lancing through your leg as you hobbled quickly to the door, throwing it open.

A hand tugged on your shirt, pulling you off balance and forcing you to step backwards.

“You’re leaving? But I did so much for you, you haven’t even paid me back...”

His grip on your shirt was firm, but you wriggled and writhed until he was forced to let go. “I-I promise I’ll pay you when I get to my car. My wallet’s there, you can have everything in it-”

You pushed forward, through the door, barely dodging Tendou’s grabby hands. This wasn’t right, there was something off about him, you needed to get away.

“I don’t want you to go.” But you weren’t listening to his suddenly deep, serious voice. Instead, you were frantically looking around, trying to figure out which way you had come from last night.

There was nothing but cactus, rocks, and dirt.

“I was wishing for company the other day, y’know? It gets so lonely here, the sheriff isn’t a good conversationalist.”

The sheriff?

You whirled around, Tendou standing in the door, looking off to the side. You followed his gaze, saw the lawn chair, the upturned bucket next to it, two empty bottles of beer. There were more bottles littering the ground.... there was another lawn chair-

-and the fully-dressed body of a sheriff, half-decayed, sat in it.

You didn’t even think to scream; who would hear you out here? All you did was run, adrenaline roaring through your veins and letting you forget about your wounded leg.

“Wait!” Tendou called after you gleefully, bouncing out of the doorway. “You’re hurting his feelings! Ahehehe!!”

The man was deranged.

And you very quickly realized that there was no where to run.

Nowhere to hide.

-----

You couldn’t see your car, or anything that looked familiar. The only sounds in the air was the panting of your own breath, your feet thudding slowly underneath you as your initial shock wore off, as the adrenaline left you, as the pain returned.

It had only been a few minutes since you took off, speeding away from the unhinged madman. You were left wondering if he was really the deputy - maybe he’d killed the deputy, stolen his uniform.

Then you wondered why there was a dead sheriff in his yard. Had no one come looking for him? Where was the sheriff’s car? What was even going on?

It’s warm, the sun beginning to beat down on you relentlessly, and you curse the desert. Curse it’s unbearable heat during the day, it’s frigid temperatures at night.

“Pretty girl!!! I found you~!” Tendou’s shrill voice had you jerking your head around, frantically trying to see where the man was. Had he been following you? Where was he, there was nothing he could hide behind!

“You want to go for a ride in my fancy car? Is that it? I’ll take you to dinner, then we’ll kiss under the moon!” The man cackled, and you determined that the voice was coming from your left.

But... there was nothing there?

Tentative, painful steps forward, towards his voice. Where was he? If you couldn’t see him, you couldn’t fight him. You needed to know where the creep was.

A careful step.

A careful st-

A terrified scream tore from your lungs as your foot seemingly plunged into thin air, immediately landing you on your butt as you slide down a steep incline.

It was a ravine.

You tumbled down into it’s depths, getting scraped by rocks and brush. Luckily, you slammed into something solid, metal, and it stopped your tumultuous motion.

Gaining your bearings, you stared hard at the door of the police car you’d just collided with, before a hand popped out of the window, waving at you.

“Beep beep!” Tendou snickered, his flat eyes taking in your disheveled appearance. “Let’s mess around, I’ve heard doing it in a car is fun.”

There’s no one around to hear you scream.

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