#Supernatural thriller

[weirdlookindog]

Audrey Rose (1977)

[stnkiconverse]

you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.

Ch.7 - Thrill

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genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)

pairing: none. (yet ;) )

WC: 2.1k

content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse, cannibalism and strong language.

Reader discretion is advised.

Yes this has to do with Creepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas will pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.

do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.

A/N: CHAT IM SO SORRY FOR NOG POSTING FOR SO LONG😭😭

The morning sun barely touches the horizon when you stir from your sleep, the remnants of dreams dark and twisted lingering in the corners of your mind. But these dreams aren't disturbing-they're a source of comfort, a reminder of the power you hold, the power you crave. Frank's disappearance, reported by Mary the day before, should concern you, but it doesn't. Instead, it fuels a fire within, a relentless hunger that demands to be fed. The thrill of your past kills lingers like a scent in the air, intoxicating and sweet, yet leaving you craving more.

Rising from your bed, you move with purpose, each step calculated, each action a ritual in your transformation.

The oversized hoodie you slip on is worn, its fabric soft and familiar against your skin, a comforting shield that conceals your form. The old Converse, scuffed and frayed, are next, grounding you in the reality of your intentions. Finally, the black medical mask covers your face, hiding the smile that curves your lips —a smile that speaks of the darkness within, the predator lurking just beneath the surface.

You sit before the mirror, your reflection staring back at you with eyes that are no longer your own.

With deliberate care, you begin the transformation, your hands moving with the precision of an artist. You darken the shadows around your eyes, sharpening the contours of your face until the person in the mirror is a stranger—a hunter ready to stalk the night. The colored contacts slide in last, their unnatural hue completing the disguise. The person staring back at you isn't you —it's the predator you've become.

Today, there is no plan, no carefully selected target. The hunger within you is a living thing, a beast that drives your every step as you leave your apartment and slip into the early morning streets. The city is quiet, the world still bathed in the soft, pale light of dawn. You walk unnoticed, a ghost among the living, your presence nothing more than a shadow on the periphery of their awareness. You find yourself drawn to a small flower shop, one that you've never visited before, its windows filled with the vibrant colors of fresh blooms.

Inside, the air is heavy with the scent of flowers, their fragrance cloying and sweet. You choose your bouquets carefully, selecting delicate pink hyacinths, representing fun and playfulness, their petals soft and fragile beneath your gloved fingers. The florist wraps them with care, her hands trembling slightly as she works.

Perhaps she senses something off about you, perhaps not- but it doesn't matter. You pay in cash, ensuring no trace of you is left behind, and leave the shop with the flowers tucked safely under your arm.

The walk home is one of anticipation, each step bringing you closer to the satisfaction you crave. The city blurs around you, your focus narrowing to a single point-the next kill. And then you see it—a house with a window wide open, the sounds of domestic bliss spilling out onto the street. A husband and wife, setting the table for breakfast, their voices light and carefree. It's a scene so ordinary, so mundane, that it shouldn't catch your attention. But today, it does.

A powerful urge grips you, one that is impossible to resist. This is it. This is the moment you've been waiting for. Without hesitation, you cross the street, your movements smooth and silent. You move with the grace of a predator, slipping into the shadows beside the house, your presence unnoticed. You listen to the couple's conversation, their words a backdrop to the beating of your heart, which quickens with anticipation.

The couple finishes their task and heads upstairs, their voices fading as they leave the room. This is your chance. You climb through the open kitchen window, your movements fluid and practiced. The flowers are placed delicately on the counter, their beauty a stark contrast to the violence you are about to unleash.

Your eyes catch the glint of a knife on the kitchen counter, its blade sharp and ready. You pick it up, feeling its weight in your hand, the cold steel a perfect extension of your will.

The wife's footsteps approach, and you retreat into the shadows, your heart pounding with the thrill of the hunt. The air is thick with tension, the moment of the kill drawing nearer with each passing second.

You wait, the anticipation building to a crescendo, your breath shallow as you prepare to strike.

A gentle stomp of your foot is all it takes to catch her attention. The sound is subtle, almost imperceptible, but enough to make her pause. She looks around, her brow furrowing in confusion as she searches for the source of the noise.

You step back further into the darkness, watching as she moves closer, her curiosity drawing her toward you. She steps into the kitchen, her eyes scanning the room, but before she can see you, you strike.

Your hand is over her mouth in an instant, cutting off any chance of a scream. The knife slices through her throat in one smooth, practiced motion, the blade meeting little resistance as it severs flesh and sinew. Blood pours out, warm and thick, a beautiful cascade of crimson that stains her blouse and pools on the floor. The sight of it is mesmerizing, the deep red contrasting sharply with the pale pink of her blouse. The thrill of the kill washes over you, a wave of euphoria that makes your hands tremble with excitement. You let her body drop with a dull thud, your eyes already seeking your next victim.

"Sarah?" The husband's voice calls from the dining room, tinged with concern. You hear his footsteps as he approaches, each step heavy with the weight of unknowing. You smile, the anticipation bubbling up inside you, your pulse quickening with the thrill of the chase.

He enters the room, his back to you, unaware of the horror that awaits him. You move silently behind him, the knife poised to strike. "Sorry..." you say, your voice a whisper laced with malice. The husband spins around at the sound, his eyes wide with shock and confusion.

"Sarah's a little busy, hope you don't mind." Before he can react, you lunge, driving the knife into his chest. The blade sinks deep, meeting bone and muscle, but you don't stop.

You stab him over and over, each thrust bringing with it a surge of adrenaline. His blood splatters across your face, warm and sticky, a stark contrast to the cool air around you. The thrill of watching the life drain from his eyes is intoxicating, and you can't stop yourself from smiling. You continue until he's barely breathing, choking on his own blood, his body twitching with the last vestiges of life.

Reaching into his back pocket, you pull out his phone, your gloved hand smearing blood across the screen.

"Call the police, and have a good dinner!" you say with a laugh, pushing yourself off him and walking back into the kitchen. The flowers you bought earlier sit untouched on the counter, a quiet witness to the carnage you've unleashed.

You rip two petals from the pink hyacinth bouquet, representing the fact that you did this for fun, their delicate beauty a stark contrast to the brutality you've just inflicted. One petal is placed gently beside the woman's lifeless body, the other beside her husband, who still clings to the last threads of life. But you don't care to watch him die. The thrill of the kill has already begun to fade, and you have no interest in staying longer. With the knife still embedded in his chest, you climb back out the window, leaving the scene as quietly as you entered.

The morning air is cool against your skin as you disappear into the forest, taking a familiar shortcut home. The buzz from the kill lingers, making your legs feel slightly unsteady, but it's a sensation you've come to savor.

The leaves and sticks crunch underfoot, the dry, earthy scent of the forest filling your lungs. The thrill of the hunt still burns in your mind, a fire that refuses to be extinguished.

But as you walk deeper into the forest, the sense of peace you felt begins to slip away. Your smile fades as you hear a crack—a sound like bones popping, like when you crack your neck or knuckles. You freeze, the hair on the back of your neck standing on end, your senses suddenly on high alert.

Footsteps follow, soft but deliberate, echoing through the trees. Your heart races, the sound almost drowning out the rustling of the leaves beneath your feet.

Panic starts to creep in, your mind racing as you try to figure out what's making the noise. You quicken your pace, moving faster through the forest, your thoughts clouded by the memory of the man you saw outside the flower shop.

The static begins to creep in, faint at first but growing louder and more insistent as you move. It's a familiar sound, one that you've come to expect, but this time it's different— more invasive, more intense. The closer you get to home, the louder the static becomes, until it's almost deafening. It fills your ears, your head, drowning out all other sounds, until it's the only thing you can hear.

You reach the back door of your apartment, your hand trembling as you push it open. The static is nearly unbearable now, a constant, overwhelming presence that refuses to be ignored. You step inside, closing the door behind you, and the noise crescendos to a fever pitch.

You glance back at the way you came, and for a fleeting moment, you see him-the man with the gash on his cheek, the one who's been haunting your steps. He stands there, watching you, his dark eyes filled with something you can't quite place. Your own eyes begin to water, the intensity of the moment almost too much to bear. You blink, and when your eyes open, he’s gone.

The static fades as quickly as it came, leaving you in a deafening silence that is almost worse. You take a long, hot shower, the water washing away the blood, the dirt, the memories of today. The warmth soothes your nerves, calming the adrenaline that still pulses through your veins. You feel good—better than you have in a long time. The thrill of the kill, the power you felt as you took those lives, lingers in your mind like a drug, and you know you’ll need more.

The next day, you wake up with a sense of peace that is unfamiliar, yet welcome. The darkness that has clung to you for so long has lifted, replaced by a strange calm. The world seems brighter, clearer, and you feel lighter than you have in weeks. You dress quickly, eager to start the day, and head to work with a spring in your step.

The hours pass quickly, the routine of work grounding you in a way that is both comforting and necessary. But as you move through the day, your thoughts drift back to the man you saw outside the flower shop. The memory of his smirk, the gash on his cheek, sends a thrill of excitement through you. And then, as if summoned by your thoughts, you see him again.

He stands outside the front window of the shop, his eyes locked on you, the same smirk playing on his lips. But this time, he’s not alone. A second figure stands beside him, taller, more imposing. He’s dressed in black skinny jeans and a stained white hoodie, his arms naturally long, his long black hair greasy, his posture relaxed yet menacing. Your heart skips a beat as you take in the sight of them, the realization dawning on you that this is no ordinary encounter.

The second figure turns to look at you, and your breath catches in your throat. His face is a grotesque mask of horror—a smile carved into his flesh, the edges raw and jagged. It’s a sight that should terrify you, but instead, it excites you. Your eyes flick back to the man with the gash, and his smirk is still there, as if he knows something you don’t. You feel a connection to him, a pull that you can’t explain.

You smile at him, a full, teeth-baring grin, as the realization hits you. He’s your next victim. The thrill, the power, the rush—it’s all-consuming, and you crave more. But before you can act, they’re gone—vanished into thin air, leaving you alone with your thoughts.

The rest of the day passes in a haze, your mind consumed by the image of the two men. You replay the encounter over and over in your head, analyzing every detail, every nuance. The thrill, the excitement, the hunger—it all builds within you, a storm that refuses to be calmed. By the time you leave work, the urge to kill has become unbearable.

As you walk home, the darkness within you swells, and you know that tonight, the hunt will begin again.

Chat, who’s gonna tell Y/N that she can’t kill Toby?

banners by @drizztdohurtin

🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet @akashic06072007

[megaeralwrites]

Honestly? 100% accurate. This may not be the most rave review my book has gotten so far, but it's definitely one of my favorites. Read the whole thing here.

[delusion-with-mel]

I FOUND A LITERAL SUPERNATURAL FAN IRL???? I WAS TOO SOCIALLY ANXIOUS TO FREAK OUT IN FRONT OF HER BUT LIKE AAAAAJSHSKHSKSHSKSDLSBWHWGGQAQWJSHWSHHSKSHSOWUIAJAJ

Shes only on s8 and my favourite seasons are ahead but its still so excitinggg like ive never met anyone that was willing to go through 15 seasons for a shitty ending

[philrayart]

Suspiria (1977) poster

Prints, stickers, apparel, etc... available!

Links in Bio 🖤

[linuxgamenews]

OXENFREE has a massive discount right now

OXENFREE supernatural thriller game available with huge discount for Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. All of this action is thanks to the hard work and creativity of the team at Night School Studio. The discount is available on Steam, regular priced on GOG and Humble Store. You're about to set off on an epic adventure full of mysteries and supernatural thriller. That's the magic from the base game and its soon to be released sequel, OXENFREE II: Lost Signals. So, in OXENFREE you're in the shoes of Alex, a teenager who bring new stepbrother Jonas to an overnight party on Edwards Island. This also happens to be an abandoned military island ends up. Which also evolve into a ghostly situation with her friends. This is like a choose your own adventure book, where you get to decide what happens to Alex and her friends. And here's some news: you can grab original title for a massive discount right now! We're talking 80% off on Linux, Mac, and Windows PC. If you're a Netflix subscriber, it's even available for you to enjoy as part of your existing plan. In case you're wondering, what's up with OXENFREE II: Lost Signals? This time around, you'll be following the story of Riley Poverly, a researcher who stumbles upon weird radio signals. She uncovers a ton of ghostly stories linked to Edwards Island, where the first adventure took place. Just like the original, you'll be making choices that shape the story in totally unexpected ways.

Looping Back To OXENFREE

The people behind the game have been sharing a bunch of videos that take a deep dive into the twisted timeline of the original adventure and give you a taste of what's coming in OXENFREE II: Lost Signals. They're inspiring to watch. Unfortunately, there's no news yet on whether OXENFREE II: Lost Signals will work on Linux. But don't sweat it; as soon as we know more, we'll let you know. The wait for the sequel won't be long. Mark your calendar for July 12th! It'll be launching on Mac and Windows PC. So, gear up to jump into an adventure full of mystery, supernatural thriller, and fascinating stories. Due to grip you from start to finish! And remember, your choices matter, so choose wisely. Available with an 80% discount on Steam (priced at $1.99 USD / £1.43 / 1,63€), regular price on GOG and Humble Store.

[brokehorrorfan]

We Go On will be released on Blu-ray and DVD on May 21 via Lightyear Entertainment. The 2016 independent horror thriller has been digitally restored with enhanced visual effects.

Andy Mitton & Jesse Holland (YellowBrickRoad) direct from a script by Mitton. Annette O'Toole, Clark Freeman, Giovanna Zacarías, John Glover, Jay Dunn, Laura Heisler, and Cassidy Freeman star.

Special features are listed below, where you can also watch a new trailer.

Special features:

Audio commentary by actors Annette O'Toole and Clark Freeman

Audio commentary by director Jesse Holland

Audio commentary by writer-director Andy Mitton

Paralyzed by his fear of dying, Miles Grissom (Clark Freeman) offers a cash reward to the first person who can show him a ghost, an angel, a demon, or anything to prove the existence of an afterlife. He narrows responses down to three candidates - a scientist, a medium, and a worldly entrepreneur. And along with his fiercely protective mother (Annette O'Toole), he embarks on an adventure that will spiral into an unthinkable nightmare.

Pre-order We Go On.

[khuantru]

I love this movie so far, just an hour 15 minutes in.

If you are a fan of supernatural thrillers. You'll enjoy this movie.

movie: Exhuma (2024)

Lee Do-hyun, Kim Go-eun, Choi Min-sik & Yoo Hai-Jin

[nightheartcomics]

THE DEAD ZONE (1983)

A supernatural thriller, also an eerie tear jerker, with a brilliant screenplay and a rich cast. It makes me want to read the book again. 🤘🖤

Directed by David Cronenberg

Screenplay by Jeffrey Boam

Based on the novel by Stephen King

Produced by Debra Hill

Starring Christopher Walken, Brooke Adams, Tom Skerritt, Herbert Lom, Anthony Zerbe, Colleen Dewhurst, Martin Sheen, Sean Sullivan

[schlock-luster-video]

On November 15, 2008, Suspiria was screened as a single-feature on TCM Underground.

Here's some new Jessica Harper art!

[dizzyhslightlyvoided]

Concept: an anime which is marketed as one of those "cute girls doing nothing" shows. But then episode 1 ends with something, like, obviously supernatural happening, like idk some girl the same age as the protagonists fucking materializes in a swirl of darkness on the school rooftop sight unseen, smirking down at all she sees, and like by the end of episode 4 it's gone full supernatural-thriller and the main four protagonists are regularly fistfighting vampires and/or angels or whatever.

Bonus points if they continue to advertise it as if it was just a slice-of-life comedy, the showrunners only talk about it as such and obviously-jokingly act confused when people try to bring up the magical girl nonsense or whatever, the next-episode previews and commericals exclusively show the mundane parts etc even when the episode is all about gearing up to fight the final boss who's immanentizing the eschaton.

[weirdlookindog]

Audrey Rose (1977)

[stnkiconverse]

you're going to do it, and you're getting away with it. you know that.

Ch.8 - Move.

⇠ Previous

Next ⇢

genre: psychological horror (in a way), creepypasta, supernatural thriller (in a way)

pairing: none. (yet;) )

WC: 2.5k

content warnings: echoes in the static contains scenes and themes that may be disturbing or triggering to some readers, including: graphic violence and murder, mental illness and psychological distress, suicide and self-harm, domestic abuse, cannibalism and strong language.

Reader discretion is advised.

Yes this has to do with Creepypastas. Yes, Creepypastas will pop up and make appearances, it's basically a reader insert into the Creepypasta word.

do not repost my work anywhere, I only post in Tumblr.

The flower shop should have closed an hour ago, but you linger, waiting for the moment when the streets are entirely empty, save for the two figures standing just outside. Their silhouettes are dark against the streetlights, unmoving as if they're statues waiting to come to life. You know they're watching you, have been watching you since Lisa left, and you can feel the anticipation building within you, your heart pounding in time with the seconds that tick by.

Your hand brushes the duffel bag under the counter. Inside, the axe rests, ready to be drawn, its cold steel offering a promise of the violence to come. But not yet.

There's a thrill in the waiting, in drawing them in, making them believe they have the upper hand. You allow yourself a small, calculated smile as you stand and head toward the door, making sure to keep your eyes on them-unblinking, so they don't vanish like mirages.

You open the door slowly, the creak of the hinges loud in the still ni ght air.

You lean against the doorframe, your smile widening as you catch their attention. "Need anything? Why don't you come in?" you say, your voice dripping with a saccharine sweetness that barely conceals the malice beneath.

They exchange a glance, something dark and knowing passing between them before they step inside. Jeff, with his grotesque, carved smile, and Toby, with that unsettling gash on his cheek, walk in as if they belong here, as if this were their domain. You close the door behind them, the soft click of the lock sealing you in together.

The shop is dark, the dim lights casting long shadows across the walls. It's quiet, too quiet, but it's the kind of silence that hums with potential energy, ready to explode at any moment. You walk back to the counter, each step deliberate, your pulse quickening with every inch that brings you closer to the axe hidden just out of sight. You lean casually against the counter, your smile now a thin line of anticipation.

"So what was it?" you ask, voice low and taunting. "Frank? Mary? The cute little couple? Tell me, which one caught your attention?"

Jeff leans back against the wall, his smile widening into something obscene, something that belongs more in a nightmare than reality.

"We've been watching you for a while," he says, his voice a deep, scratchy, gravelly rumble. "You've got a real knack for this sort of thing. But Frank... he was fun."

Toby, standing just a step behind him, stutters slightly as he speaks, his voice dripping with mockery. "Y-you really p-put on a show with that one. K-kinda hot, actually."

Your fingers tighten around the handle of the axe inside the duffel bag, your patience wearing thin. The time for games is over. You slowly unzip the bag, the sound almost lost in the tension-filled silence. But they notice. Jeff's grin only widens, sensing the shift in the air.

"So, you're fans? Admirers? Or just creeps who get off on watching?" you ask, your tone hardening as the playful edge disappears.

Jeff's laugh is rough, almost manic, filling the small space with its grating sound. "Creeps? Fuck yeah, maybe. But we're not the ones leaving corpses with pretty little flowers stuck to them, are we? There's something about a girl with an axe that just... does it for me."

"You've got spirit, b-but let's see if you've got the guts," Toby adds, his eyes raking over you with a twisted sort of admiration. "I like a girl w-who knows how to use an axe."

You've heard enough. Your hand tightens around the axe's handle, and with a swift, powerful motion, you pull it free and swing at Jeff. The blade slices through the air with deadly precision, aimed right for his head. But Jeff moves faster than you expect, dodging the blow with a speed that sends the axe slamming into the wooden wall behind him, splinters flying everywhere.

"Feisty!" Jeff growls, clearly enjoying the thrill of the fight. "You know, I like it when they fight back."

Without hesitation, you yank the axe free, ready to strike again, but they're already on you. Jeff and Toby move like shadows, their movements almost too fast to follow as they slip past your attacks, dodging each swing, each stab, with ease. It's infuriating, the way they toy with you, their grins never wavering.

Your breath comes in sharp bursts, your frustration mounting with every missed strike. You're good—no, you're great-but they're better. Still, you refuse to back down. You grab the sharp scissors from the counter, your grip tightening as you change tactics. When Jeff gets too close, you lash out, the blade slicing through his arm. Blood spatters, but it only seems to excite him more.

"Now we're getting somewhere,"

Jeff laughs, his voice edged with manic glee. "If you wanted to get close, sweetheart, you could've just asked."

Without missing a beat, you grab his wounded arm, yanking him close and driving the scissors into his stomach.

The blade sinks deep, and for a moment, you see the flash of pain in his eyes. But it's fleeting, replaced almost immediately by that maddening grin.

"Is that all you've got?" Jeff rasps, blood dribbling from his mouth.

"You're gonna have to do better than that."

You shove him back, watching him stumble, but before you can capitalize on the moment, Toby charges at you, relentless. You barely manage to grab a nearby vase and hurl it at his face. The vase shatters against his cheek, sending shards of glass flying. Toby staggers, momentarily disoriented, but the grin on his face only widens.

"Nice shot," Toby sneers, wiping the blood from his face with a wicked smirk. "B-but you'll have to try harder than that, sweetheart."

Before you can respond, the back door creaks open.

"Y/N? You okay? Sorry, I just forgot my pho-" Lisa's voice cuts through the chaos like a knife.

You freeze. The sight of Lisa standing in the doorway, her expression shifting from concern to shock, sends a jolt of something-fear, anger, you're not sure-through you. But it's short-lived. Instinct takes over, you drop the pair of scissors and reach for the axe.

In one swift, brutal motion, you turn and swing the axe. The blade connects with Lisa's forehead, splitting her skull with a sickening crack. Blood sprays, and her body crumples to the floor with a heavy thud.

For a moment, the world goes silent.

The weight of what you've just done hits you like a freight train, but you can't afford to dwell on it. There are bigger problems now-two of them, in fact.

With a growl of frustration, you spin back around, adrenaline surging. You throw the axe at Jeff, who's grinning like a madman, but Toby shoves him out of the way just in time. The axe slams into the wall again, and you realize, with cold clarity, that you're outmatched.

Jeff and Toby close in, their movements calculated, confident.

You duck behind the counter, your mind racing. You can't afford to lose control. As you crouch, your hand brushes against the sharp scissors you used earlier. Grabbing them, you prepare yourself, refusing to let fear take over.

Just as Toby reaches over the counter, you spring up, slashing at him. The blade cuts across his cheek, the same one already marred by the vase shards. Blood trickles down, but his grin doesn't waver.

"You're making this fun," Jeff hisses, his voice a mix of pain and exhilaration. "But you're outnumbered, sweetheart."

Jeff moves faster than you can react, swiping the axe from the wall. He wields it with a sinister ease, his manic grin never fading.

You refuse to back down. As he closes in, you slash at him with the scissors, managing to land a deep cut on his other arm. He winces but doesn't stop, his eyes gleaming with twisted enjoyment.

With the odds stacked against you, your mind races for a way out. You grab the nearest object—another heavy flower vase, a much bigger one —and hurl it at Toby's head. The vase shatters on impact, sending him reeling backward, giving you the opening you need, Jeff drops the axe and you grab it.

Before they can recover, you bolt for the back door, your axe still in hand.

You don't look back as you disappear into the night, taking a winding, familiar path home where no one can see you.

The adrenaline pulses through your veins, making your limbs feel both weightless and leaden as you make your way through the shadows. The path is quiet, secluded, and you're thankful for it. By the time you reach your door, you're exhausted, every muscle screaming for rest.

You drop your axe by the door and stumble into your bed, not bothering to remove your shoes. The moment your head hits the pillow, you're out, sleep claiming you almost immediately.

—————————————————————————

When you wake, sunlight is already filtering through the blinds, harsh and unforgiving. Every muscle in your body aches from the fight, but there's a sick satisfaction deep in your chest. You survived.

You reach for the remote, turning on the TV as you sit up, rubbing the sleep from your eyes. The local news flickers to life, the anchor's monotonous voice droning on until the words "Local Flower Shop Burned Down Overnight" make your heart skip a beat.

The screen shows the smoldering remains of the shop, firefighters still working to put out the last of the flames. You feel a cold chill run down your spine, but it's quickly replaced by a twisted sense of satisfaction.

Jeff and Toby had destroyed the evidence, ensuring that no one would ever know what happened there last night. But it also means one thing: the police are going to be all over this.

You know you have to leave Greenville. The police are already suspicious of you, and with the shop destroyed and Lisa dead, it won't take them long to connect the dots.

You have to disappear, and you have to do it now.

But not without one last act. One final spree to leave your mark on this town forever.

You stand in front of the mirror, staring at your reflection. You look like hell- dark circles under your eyes, your skin now pale and slick with sweat. But there's a fire in your eyes, a hunger that burns hotter than ever.

You can't leave Greenville without one final act of defiance. One last spree that will haunt this town long after you're gone.

You pack your weapons-your axe, a few knives, and whatever else you can find. You know exactly who your targets will be. The people who have wronged you, who have looked down on you, who have made your life hell.

You wait until night.

Your first stop is close to home- a neighbor who has always been a thorn in your side. They're outside, tending to their garden, completely unaware of the danger lurking just behind the fence. You wait, your breath steady, your grip on the axe firm. When the moment is right, you strike. The blade slices through the air, connecting with flesh and bone.

The neighbor's body crumples to the ground, lifeless. You drop a small petal right next to your now deceased neighbor.

You don't linger. You move quickly, efficiently, leaving the body behind as you make your way to your next target—a former employer. You slip into the building unnoticed, your footsteps silent on the tile floor. The boss is working late, just as you'd expected. He doesn't even see you coming. The axe slams into his neck with ease, his body slumping over the desk in front of him. You lean in close, your lips brushing his ear as you whisper, "This is for everything you ever did to me."

You leave a single flower petal on his desk, a final message to anyone who finds him—a petal from a red spider lily, the symbol of a final goodbye.

Your spree continues, each kill more brutal than the last. A random stranger on the street, caught off guard by the blade of your axe. A police officer, targeted specifically to send a message.

With each kill, you leave behind a calling card—a petal from the red spider lily, each one a cold, silent farewell.

As the night wears on, the bodies pile up. The town is in chaos, sirens blaring in the distance as the police scramble to contain the madness.

But you're always one step ahead, moving through the shadows with lethal precision.

Your final target is someone who has always been just out of reach—a high-ranking official, someone who has the power to ruin lives with a single decision. You've been planning this one for a while, waiting for the perfect moment. And now it has arrived.

You approach his house under the cover of darkness, your heart pounding with anticipation. The windows are dark, the street quiet.

Perfect.

You slip inside, moving through the house like a ghost. Your target is asleep in his bed, completely unaware of the danger lurking just beyond the door. You stand over him for a moment, savoring the power you hold in your hands. Then, with a swift, brutal motion, you bring the axe down.

The blade connects with a sickening thud, blood spraying across the room. Your target doesn't even have time to scream.

You stand there for a moment, your breath coming in short, sharp bursts.

The room is silent, save for the sound of your own heartbeat pounding in your ears. You look down at the body, at the blood pooling around it, and feel a sense of satisfaction settle over you.

This is it. The final goodbye.

You reach into your pocket and pull out a single red spider lily petal. You place it on the pillow next to your target's head, a final message to the town you're leaving behind.

You don't look back as you leave the house, the darkness swallowing you whole. You have one final task before you can disappear for good.

You arrive in Tuscaloosa under the cover of darkness, just as you had planned. Two duffel bags propped on your shoulder, one with your axe and a couple knives, and the other with as many clothes you could fit in it.

You have a new place waiting for you, a small, nondescript apartment on the outskirts of town. It isn't much, but it's perfect for laying low. Plus, it’s near the woods. Something you’ve been planning to explore since you rented the apartment. 

As you unpack your things, you can't shake the feeling of satisfaction that lingers in your chest. You've done it.

You've left your mark on Greenville, and now you're free to start over.

But even as you settle into your new life, you can't stop thinking about the thrill of the kill. The way it made you feel alive, invincible. You know it won't be long before the hunger returns, before you're driven to kill again.

But for now, you'll lay low, bide your time, and wait for the perfect moment. And when it comes, you'll be ready.

Tuscaloosa looks like the perfect place to wreak havoc in.

FUCK COLLEGE😡

i don’t like this chapter lol 

Who’s gonna tell her who lives in the woods of Tuscaloosa??? 👀

Once you’re done reading this, go vote on this!! It is VITAL for the story, pinky promise.

🏷️: @mimmickmouse @stranger-of-the-internet @akashic06072007 @hey-an-original-url

[megaeralwrites]

Happy Disability Pride Month! Meet the queer, disabled MC of The Shabti, Dashiel Quicke. Dash is a former fake medium who finally got tired of the grift and decided to wash his hands of it all. Trouble is, his past isn't so ready to let go of him--and he soon finds himself dogged by much more than just the physical and emotional scars of the life he left behind.

[redsnerdden]

DanDaDan First Encounter Rakes In $1,005,531 in U.S. Box Office, debuting in Top 15

DanDaDan First Encounter Rakes In $1,005,531 in U.S. Box Office, debuting in Top 15 #ダンダダン #DanDaDan #Anime #Manga #animation #entertainment

This weekend’s box office was certainly full of paranormal thrills, psychological horror, and politics, but surprisingly it’s the anime adaption of Yukinobu Tatsu’s DanDaDan that made a splash in the top 15 of the U.S. Box Office with DanDaDan: First Encounter. Image Credit: GKIDS, Shueisha, Science Saru, Yukinobu Tatsu The early preview brought in around $1,005,531 during its limited-time…

[mesho11]

The trailer for the film