𝐈𝐓 𝐈𝐒𝐍’𝐓 𝐔𝐍𝐔𝐒𝐔𝐀𝐋 𝐅𝐎𝐑 𝐆𝐇𝐎𝐒𝐓𝐅𝐀𝐂𝐄 𝐓𝐎 𝐍𝐀𝐕𝐈𝐆𝐀𝐓𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐅𝐎𝐆. travelling from place to place, exploring the different realms on his own terms. but he searches with purpose, this time. having visited the survivor’s campfire, he’d noticed one of them to be missing. some were arriving from their latest trial, others taken for the next. one adam francis never made an appearance, prompting danny to go looking. it was never wise to wander alone. especially not when killers were stalking within the shadows.
eventually, he finds adam resting among a clearing. 𝐒𝐄𝐄𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐏𝐄𝐀𝐂𝐄 ? sick of the other survivors, perhaps ? whatever happened to sticking together ? danny finds his curiosity piqued. deja vu - how he misses the psychological effort that used to be involved with maintaining the ghostface persona. the aliases, the manipulation, the weeks of stalking and slow, gradual assassination of sense of self. luring his victims to the verge of insanity. 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐈𝐋𝐋𝐈𝐍𝐆 𝐁𝐔𝐈𝐋𝐃 𝐎𝐅 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐇𝐔𝐍𝐓.
he would never take his current circumstance for granted, but he misses hiding in plain sight. misses the recognition and attention. 𝙷𝙰𝚅𝙴 𝙸 𝙶𝚁𝙾𝚆𝙽 𝚁𝚄𝚂𝚃𝚈 ? he wonders. danny notices adam is growing more nervous, likely sensing his lingering presence but instead of allowing himself to be spotted he makes his presence known by stepping into view, the glint of his knife catching the light. 𝙺𝙴𝙴𝙿𝙸𝙽𝙶 𝙲𝙾𝙽𝚃𝚁𝙾𝙻 𝙰𝚃 𝙰𝙻𝙻 𝚃𝙸𝙼𝙴𝚂.
“ I thought misery loved company. why are you not mingling with the others ? you’d certainly be safer. ”
plotted starter / @adamfrncis
what an entrance. adam hasn’t been here as long as the others, but from what he’s seen in trials, the killer calling himself ghostface seems to have a flair for the dramatic.
he should bolt -- see if he could make it back to the safety of the campfire before that glinting, wicked knife had other ideas. but maybe it’s the fatigue of too many trials or the fact that ghostface had offered some kind of conversation starter. maybe it’s just that it’s quiet here, and adam misses the quiet. he’d been trying to remember the opening of albert camus’ the stranger: both because the fog had a distressing lack of literature, and to comfort himself with some aspect of the books he’d made his home among.
he doesn’t know where to look -- not at the knife, surely. but the absence of human emotion on the ghostface mask, the vague blackness of the eyeholes, are just as unsettling.
“misery needed some peace and quiet,” he replies after a pause. he notes, as before, that ghostface has an american accent, and maybe adam is wondering where he came from, what kind of circumstances could ever lead anyone to this. “am i to assume that’s why you’re here as well?”
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