Florence & Sebastian
Wouldn’t you fucking know it. I decide to crawl out of the lake, and there you are.
Don’t you have a live girl to stalk, old man?
Not yet. I wouldn't want to make you feel unwanted, Florence my dear.

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@ashworthinashes
Florence & Sebastian
Wouldn’t you fucking know it. I decide to crawl out of the lake, and there you are.
Don’t you have a live girl to stalk, old man?
Not yet. I wouldn't want to make you feel unwanted, Florence my dear.
Just heard an elderly couple saying there’s no way this town’s haunted. You’re kidding me, right?
The older you are the more susceptible you are to deluding yourself into a state of unearned peace.
I made my fantasy life more powerful than my real one.
Jeffrey Dahmer (via a-murderer-blog)
Florence & OPEN
… ?
What the fuck are you doing here?
Looking for something interesting.
I’ve watched to many episodes of Law and Order. Now I’m pretty sure I know how to spot a killer.
Oh,is that so? And how does one spot a killer, then?
Sassy Andrew :P
Andrew Scott - Birdland production shots
Wait— another one? I thought that was only a rumor. That why we’re all in here, then?
Why else would we all be cooped up in here? [Although, he didn't technically have to stay] They strung up an officer, from what I know. How cute.
Another murder. My my my, this puppeteer fellow really does know how to impress.
Ted Bundy once explained how he diminished his vulnerability to detection when disposing of bodies. He would park on a curve so that he could see cars approaching from either direction. He learned this technique from a movie about a killer who had done the same thing. Asked how old he was when he saw this movie, Bundy replied he must have been 12 or 13. That movie did not turn Ted Bundy into a serial murderer, a whole variety of life experiences made him what he was. However, Bundy did learn this particular method.
Claustrophobic || Florence & Sebastian
claustrophobia (ˌklɔːstrəˈfəʊbɪə, ˌklɒs-) — n. an abnormal fear of being closed in or of being in a confined space.
She was supposed to be a brave girl without a single care in the world; ever since she woke up from two years of loneliness, Florence had been closed-off and had relied on herself to get by. Now she was realizing that her stoicism could only last so long — she had to reach out to people who could help her, even if it felt like a deep blow to her pride.
Standing within the expansive prop closet of the school’s theater department, Florence was immediately reminded of a time that she had snuck out of class in order to snag a period of sleep inside a flimsy closet or behind a sub-par storefront. Better yet, she could remember craftily hiding packets of cigarettes in those very same props for emergencies and nights when she would sneak into the school.
Suddenly, her quest for clues or a way out of the building was hardly as important as the need for a cigarette. With her mind a thousand different places and her body unwilling to cooperate, Florence was left to scour the area in search of a single crushed pack of cheap cigarettes that she would hold with glee. Ever the resourceful young girl, she shook out a plastic bic lighter from the pack as well of the only cigarette that was proper for smoking. Shaking hands lit the tip and brought it to her lips before…
Nothing.
That same cigarette hit the floor almost as soon as she had taken her first drag.
An audible groan was supposed to pass through her lips at that moment, but Florence made a noise more akin to a whimper as her knees hit the ground hard and her hands grasped toward that cancer-stick.
Nothing.
The tips of fingers phased through the filter of a cigarette while panic rose and confusion reigned supreme. By the time that she managed to shakily pick up her smoke, Florence was only able to take two more drags before the cigarette phased through her fingertips once more and fell to the ground.
"Fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Fuck, okay.”
Calm wasn’t something to describe Florence on a regular basis. Constantly on edge and fearful of the world around her, she somehow managed to blatantly fuck herself over simply by being cautious. The girl who came off as a rebel in life was now regretting her decision, and she had nobody to lean on… Not a single soul.
"I’m so fucked," she murmured to herself as her boot came crashing down on the lit end of her cigarette. "So fucked. Holy shit — holy shit.”
Had she heard the shuffling in the shadows, perhaps she wouldn’t have been so eager to panic.
Sebastian had, at first, granted Florence the small mercy of leaving her be for now. Or if you could even call it a mercy, or anything remotely close to it. It was much more akin to biding his time, for he did have other things to get to while she made her way down to the theater department. She could wait, for now. He was sure that allowing her to stew in her own panic developed all on her lonesome without any interference from Sebastian, was going to strike fear deep into her heart, and he'd enjoy watching that later.
For at first, he paroled the parameters of the school a little, invisible and intangible, nothing but a mind existing out of the realms of space. He went around, peering out of windows and pulling blinds up, allowing him to see out, and anyone else, in.
And when he found a door that led outside, it wasn't hard for him to flicker into physical existence, break the locking mechanism on that door, and pushing that door open, peering outside with a smirk before he disappeared again, continuing on his way.
At this point, Sebastian wanted chaos. He wanted to destroy the plans of keeping the people 'safe', he wanted to destroy their chances of figuring out who the puppeteer was. He wanted to see the man come and destroy these people, he wanted to watch him take a victim, or two, right from under their noses.
And so for a short while, he spent his time opening windows and doors where people wouldn't immediately find them in such a state, ensuring they would stay open for as long as possible. And he couldn't wait to see if his efforts paid off, or if he would be investing more time into ensuring the terror of Bentley's people.
After a short while, Sebastian felt the pull to Florence like an addiction, and like an addiction, he didn't deny himself the satisfaction. And oh, what a delight it was to find himself in the shadows of the prop department watching Florence panic, feeling it rolling off her in waves as she struggled to maintain her physical form long enough to smoke one of those cigarettes-- Something he maintained tasted far worse than they used to when he was living.
He watched on for a good while as she swore to herself, and finally stomped out the cigarette she'd been trying to smoke. It was then that he pulled himself from the shadows, footsteps sounding dull on carpeted floors as he approached her, standing behind her and watching her, smirk missing but smugness written all over his schooled features anyway.
"What's the matter, miss Marsh? Struggling now, are we?"
Team Nine
Seems that way.
We'll see how long that lasts, little lamb. I'll be around.
Team Nine
No.
No?
Just going to brave the theater department alone, then?
Team Nine
Jesus fucking Christ.
I’m going to the theater department. You fuckers heading toward the roof… you wanna know how to get there?
Looks like it leaves you and I to the theater department, then.
"When this monster entered my brain, I will never know, but it is here to stay." -Dennis Rader; Blind, Torture, Kill strangler.
1. Bodies - Drowning Pool 2. The Dope Show - Marilyn Manson 3. 213 - Slayer 4. Blackest Eye - Porcupine Trees 5. Ich Will - Rammstein 6. Red Right Hand - Nick Cave and the Bad Seeds 7. Children of the Grave - Black Sabbath 8. Run to the Hills - Iron Maiden 9. Hallowed Be Thy Name - Cradle of Filth 10. Come to Daddy - Aphex Twin {For Florence Marsh}
God, since when did this whole lockdown turn into the weirdest and most stressful Scooby Doo episode ever?
Since the authorities decided that they have no idea how to handle these situations, that's how.
Room 201 || Florence & Sebastian
"No," she insisted, "you don’t."
But he did, and he knew it. Perhaps she should’ve given up while she was ahead — suicide was definitely a victory, wasn’t it? — but her pride wouldn’t allow her to drop her facade long enough to realize that she was endangering her eternal afterlife more by provoking the beast that stood in front of her.
In Florence’s mind, she couldn’t possibly allow herself to let Sebastian know she was scared. If he knew, then she’d be considered weak… but would that have been so bad? Did she want to be strong if that meant painting a target directly on her chest? Without the time to weigh the options, Florence was left with her only defense: A brave face.
All she had to do was admit defeat, but she stood indignant in the face of danger until Sebastian finally breeched the wall of an unspoken agreement. It was the first time he had touched her, and Florence rather hoped it would never happen again. The thrill of panic that set alight her cold form was stomach-turning in itself, nearly as nauseating as the chilled trail left by his fingertips upon her skin.
Panic.
Florence was panicking and she had nobody but herself to rely on. At least she knew Sebastian couldn’t harm her family if he was here, but he could break her and it was a long eternity that she faced with him in the same town.
The disappearing act was one that Florence should’ve been used to, but it still caused her to start just as his fingertips brushed against her neck and through her hair. For the girl who had no intimate experience with any man, this was certainly not something she wanted to endure.
"I AM NOT AFRAID."
And so, without a second thought, she swung at him. Luckily — though perhaps only for Sebastian — her clenched fist met only with the air as she staggered forward and turned her gaze immediately to see Sebastian lounging against a wall, all smugness with his arms crossed.
"I’m not your darling. I’m not your sweetheart. I don’t give you chills, I —" And then, in her moment of desperation, Florence looked down to see that her hand was phasing out of reality. Her lack of control on her own emotions translated into a startling lack of control of her body.
"F-fuck. Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh god. Oh fuck."
Nothing could be quite as satisfying in that very moment than watching Florence take a swing at him just a fraction of a second before Sebastian was gone, and able to watch from a few feet away. He wore his smirk like a second skin, but then something really interesting happened, something unexpected that had him pushing off the wall, taking a step closer in curiosity this time.
"Not being able to control your emotions leads to not being able to control your body, Florence." He tutted, knowing that she knew it, knowing that it had Florence metaphorically shaking in her boots. It would freak a lot of people out, suddenly having parts of their body disappear because fear coursed through their veins, fear they were trying to hide.
"Wouldn't it be a shame if that happened in front of the living? If your fear gets the best of you then, and you can't control yourself, lord only knows what's going to happen to you when you appear in front of them. The dead who do that, don't generally stick around for long." He taunted. And the uproar if Florence was suddenly seen in public, especially in a place like this where everyone was everywhere, would be incredibly interesting.
"Haven't quite got the hang of the afterlife, have you, little lamb?"