* I THINK I FOUND HELL.

priv. horror based oc. read all pages.

[boyvile]

SMILE  !           NO ONE CARES HOW    YOU    FEEL.          independent serial killer original character          (     trigger heavy     )          written and imagined by what the kids call     horrible.

[grunge-a]

[bodyawake-blog]

‘ what can you not believe? go ahead and tell me. ’

HE SCOFFS AN ABRUPT LAUGH      that leaves his throat gritty,    tasting like every mistake he’s ever made.      

‘      —    ¡vete a la mierda.      ’      muttered as a dismissal,    a meager attempt to play this whole thing off.    pretend it’s a joke.    some big,    elaborate hoax.    dry ice behind the parked cars and whispered recordings playing through mounted speakers too small to see,    trick glass on the mirrors with people in masks on the other side.    a theme park attraction that runs during halloween,    except this particular horror show goes all year.

but it isn’t any of that.    isn’t a joke,    or a trick,    or a well - crafted illusion.

delusion    is still on the table.

he hasn’t slept.    maybe that’s part of what makes this so   …   is there a word for it   ?    certainly not one that measures up.    (    what do you call the fingers that crawl up your spine if you stand in the dark a little too long   ?    what do you call a bad dream when you’re wide awake,    or the sound of   her   putting on her makeup ten feet away in the same room that,    you could swear,    had been splashed in arterial red when you looked away for a   split - second    —    ?    does your terror have a name   ?   )

a vague,    inarticulate gesture at the dullness of their surroundings   ;   deceptive as a funhouse mirror,    he’s learned not to trust anything here.

anything,    or anyone.

the curl of his lip is less a smile,    more a dry,    wordless,    you doin’ this again   ?    a question to which he already knows the answer.    jonah has a habit of setting his back teeth on edge just because he can.

‘      forget it,    man.    finish your book.    i’m gonna go work on my tab across the street.      ’

you’re next      /      accepting      /      @bodyafraid .

[bodyawake-blog]

rpmemesfam:

  you’re next sentence starters.

please change any pronouns as you see fit !

‘ grab anything that might make a good weapon. ’

‘ oh my god, what is happening to us? ’

‘ i don’t see anyone. do you see anyone? ’

' whoa, wait, don’t do that! you don’t want your DNA in here, man! ’

' i’ll clean it up later. just like the rest of this fucking mess. ’

' excuse me? you say that like it’s my fault. ’

' you never want to do anything interesting any more. ’

' i don’t think that’s a fair criticism. ’

' fuck me next to your dead mom then. ’

‘ you seem to have a handle on it. ’

‘ i knew you were into some sketchy shit! ’

‘ this wasn’t a random attack! our family’s being targeted. ’

' why would anybody do this? ’

‘ i wanna meet your family. ’

‘ you know what’s going on? ’

‘ i knew you guys served together but i didn’t know you were related. ’ 

‘ man, she really fucked him up good, huh? ’

‘ listen, just so we’re perfectly clear, i just had to kill my own brother. ’

‘ thanks for your help, by the way. ’

‘ why the fuck not? ’

‘ i stuck a blender on his head and killed him. ’ 

' you were supposed to do that! ’

' for all the good you guys did in here, you could have stayed outside with your fucking crossbows! ’

‘ look… i’m sorry, i didn’t know that. ’  

‘ it’s our pleasure. ’

‘ it’s kind of hard to tell. ’

' who says i’m judging you? ’

' i’m not putting up with it anymore. ’

‘ you are so jealous of me. ’

‘ you know what, i’m glad this is coming out. ’

‘ can you get a handle on these boys? ’

‘ what the fuck is that? ’

‘ what can you not believe? go ahead and tell me. ’

‘ get down! get down! stay away from the windows! ’

' we’re all gonna die! ’

‘ i don’t have a signal. does anybody have a signal? ’

‘ i had a signal today. i was able to use the phone today. ’

‘ why are you calling me a low life? i’m just trying to help the situation. ’

‘ what you just said. what was that? ’ 

‘ is there something else you wanted to say to me? ’

‘ somebody should make a run for the car. ’

‘ no, no, no! we can’t go out there! ’

‘ come on, it’s the only way. ’

‘ whoever’s the fastest runner, who is that? ’

‘ nobody needs to run, we need to all stay inside. ’

‘ i can’t believe you’re in on this. ’

‘ how were we supposed to know you were really good at killing people? ’

[bodyawake-blog]

bodyafraid    :

HE DOUBTS HE INTENDED PRAISE,          but smiles as though warmed by the remark.          

the paperback novel blows open     (     and it should be noted that this was  not  an exemplary display of the town and its oddities,     but rather the oscillating pedestal fan.     )          its pages turn until it falls on the excerpt of thomas quillan’s sworn testimony      ––     there is a portion highlighted here that reads:     the devil came to chamberlain.          it is the only sentence highlighted in the novel,     and it catches his eye.          

he has always enjoyed stephen king’s work.          he thinks that perhaps the town does,     too.

❛          i’m  touched.          ❜

it scrapes out from his throat,     a deep rasp with little emotion.          the bills are collected,     then tucked into the pocket of a pair of denim jeans with a peculiar  red  stain on the thigh.          this stain will remind you of  blood splatter  the longer you look at it.          do not read that far into it.          ❛          enjoy your stay.          ❜

HE COULD LEAVE IT THERE,    EASILY.      could head for the door with a mock salute,    maybe,    or the hook of an ironic smile.    but he’s looking at the stained jeans,    the dark spot that draws his eye like he’s been trained to look for it    ;    pizza sauce,    for all he knows.    and there’s the ironic smile.    he’d bet every last dollar he has to his name that it isn’t fucking pizza sauce.

the next thing that stalls him is the paperback’s familiar title.    carrie.    apparently,    blood is a recurring theme here.

‘      stephen king fan,    huh   ?    yeah.    i’m not even gonna pretend that’s a surprise.      ’      he leans against the counter,    head canted to the side,    almost thoughtful.      ‘       you ever read  ‘ it ’   ?    i remember this one line at the beginning    —    and it’s not the one you’d think,    man,    it’s not that whole    you’ll float too    speech,    it’s when georgie’s lookin’ down at pennywise,    when its face changes,    right   ?    it’s somethin’ like,    what he saw destroyed his sanity in one clawing stroke.      ’

he’s thinking of the fog and the teeth in the mirror and the humming in the bathroom,    thinking of the footsteps that follow him down the hall when no one is there.    sanity is relative.

a shrug,    expressionless.      ‘      thought it was a good line.      ’

[uber-music]

Visit Original Link

[bodyafraid]

YOU WILL NEVER LEAVE THIS PLACE.

it is home to an upwards of eighty people with little room for expansion;     its secrets are not for you to find.          ignore the  chill  that runs the length of your spine and the  paranoia  that sinks like a stone in the pit of your stomach.          your racing pulse is lying to you.         there are things to fear in this town,     but the shadows that dance in your  peripheral vision  are not one of them.          the  quiet dusk  is not a precursor to something sinister,     though you may be inclined to believe  otherwise.

AESTHETIC     /     the town.

[bodyawake-blog]

bodyafraid    :

HE ISN’T.          but he will later,     when joaquín returns to room thirteen.          room thirteen,     with the bed she tossed and turned in and the bathtub she was found in,     slack - limbed  and lifeless,     nothing but a corpse.          he begins to wonder:     is this  really  coincidence  ?          the chair creaks as he leans back,     feet propped on the reception desk and crossed at the ankles.          ❛          if you’re staying another night,     the rate’s  forty  up front    ––    i told you this yesterday,     and  the day before that.         ❜

‘      YOUR CUSTOMER SERVICE IS SHIT.      ’      he’s not offended.    if anything,    he’s relieved.    there’s a special sort of   denial   clinging to her memory    (   because that’s all it is now    :    memory   )    like an overcast sky on an otherwise warm day.    he doesn’t want to let it go just yet.    a pair of twenties is pulled from his wallet and slapped down on the desk,    and he isn’t thinking about what’ll happen once the last of his cash runs out.    poured into cheap booze across the street,    probably.    into a kitschy motel room with no wifi and no cell signal and a tv that only gets two channels,    all static.      ‘      you can tell me again tomorrow.    ‘s my favourite part of the day,    when we get to have these talks.    reconfortante.      ’

[bodyafraid]

FLASH HEADCANONS.     i encourage anyone who wants to interact with me to read over this  thoroughly  !    these details may be a long read,  but it is  imperative  for you know and  understand  the town before plotting and interacting with me in order to get a feel for the atmosphere and determine where  your character  will fit in.     trigger warning for mentions of death and suicide.

Keep reading

[bodyawake-blog]

demonsfaced    :

                ❝  okay  ——–  that’s good.  ❞     reassurance.  you’re doing good;  you’re helping.  derek thinks for a moment on if he should continue.  the kid stiffened;  he doesn’t want to do this.  but the federal agent knows that this may be only way to find her so he doesn’t let up.

               ❝  do you get up ?  or do you stay put ?  when exactly did she start disappearing ?  ❞     there’s plenty more questions,  but he knows to pace himself.  too many questions can ignite panic.

‘      I SEND HER A TEXT AND THEN I GO BACK TO SLEEP.      ’      it feels close to repentant.    like a kind of confession,    an admission of guilt.    like maybe if he   had   gotten up,   had paid more attention,    had somehow   done more    —    maybe they wouldn’t be here.    there’s that bitter taste again,    metallic on his tongue.      ‘      started    ...    about a month ago   ?    i don’t know.    i mostly worked nights.    i wasn’t   there.      ’      eyes snap open.      ‘      somethin’ was wrong and i had no idea.    what’s that say about me   ?      ’

[bodyawake-blog]

bodyafraid    :

❛          IT MUST BE WORTH          something,     otherwise you wouldn’t still  have  it.          ❜          he hadn’t meant it as a sentiment.          he meant it as a pleasantry;     a courtesy of sort,     to pretend he  cared.          he thought it might be the  right thing  to do.

‘      IT’S JUST A PICTURE,    MAN.      ’      the kind of thing you’d see on the news,    something bright and shiny pulled from social media to make people go   that’s so sad   when they talk about her tragic disappearance.    he wants to throw his phone against the wall.    pockets it instead and shrugs at jonah,    defiantly careless.      ‘      don’t read too far into it.      ’

[bodyawake-blog]

keptlast    :

          ‘  i’ve  cleaned  up  worse  things,  ‘    she laughs. it’s dry, much like the air in the bar. the lights are on and he’s the last one there.   again.   she feels bad, knowing what he was going though. granted it was nothing she knew by experience  —-  the town did things to travelers. all it did to her was kept her numb and sedated with whatever liquor or drug she could find to keep herself sane.

         ‘  suit  yourself.  i’ll  be  open  at  eleven  tomorrow morning.  bloody  mary’s  on  me.  you’re  gonna  need  it.  ‘

SHE’S TALKING,    BUT IT’S DISTANT.      muffled,    somehow.    like when you’re underwater and somebody calls your name.    the words don’t add up to much and the silence rings loud in his ears.

he stands.    everything rocks sideways,    throws off his center of gravity,    like he’s on the ocean - slick deck of a boat instead of worn,    solid hardwood.    it makes him   think twice   about those fifty paces.    when he looks at her,    she’s distorted.    out of focus.

‘      how,    uh    —    how far’d you say the couch was   ?      ’

[audiovisual-dept]

[bodyawake-blog]

keptlast    :

@bodyawake  ♡ ‘d.

‘  look  –   ‘    she doesn’t really want to kick him out. she feels bad. he’s been rambling on and on about his girlfriend and about how things were so weird in this town that she actually felt sorry for him. granted, she did. she always felt sorry for the ones that lost something before they came here. it only got worse. 

‘  i  can’t  serve  you  anything  else,  but  if  you  need  a  place  to  crash,  i  have  a  couch  upstairs.  you  don’t  look  so  good.  ‘

‘      GOT A ROOM ACROSS THE STREET.      ’      fifty paces,    give or take,    but moving hoover dam to connecticut would be less complicated right now.    too much liquor,    not enough sleep.    he’d keep drinking if she’d   let   him    —    the terrors aren’t so bad when he   blacks out.

one last sip.    corrosive like battery acid.    he looks as good as he feels,    and he feels like death.      ‘      ...    'sides,    you don’t want me   throwin’ up in your bathroom   all night.      ’

[bodyawake-blog]

demonsfaced    :

                leaning forward,     ❝  i need you to close your eyes.  and i need you to think back to when she first started disappearing  ——–  going off on her own.  ❞     this could be painful,  derek thinks.  he’s experienced a lost on these terms.  his cousin disappeared but a body was never found.  but he never stopped looking and he brought her home years later.  she had been taken and forced into…questionable and extremely dangerous circumstances under the ruse of   THE COMPANY.

                                       perhaps he could do the same here.

               again,  watching the kids expression carefully for a sign that he’s hiding something or if they need to stop.     ❝  it’s the middle of the night.  it’s dark.  and you wake up  ——-  but why ?  what makes you wake up ?  ❞

CLOSE YOUR EYES.      it’s a harmless request,    and he hesitates.    almost says   no.    almost dismisses all of this and walks out because he doesn’t like to close his eyes if he can help it.    doesn’t like what he sees.    but he does it,    after a minute.    tries to relax his breathing,    his pulse,    the new tension that stiffens his spine.    head bows,    breath drawn in.

‘      —    i feel her get up.    she’s been restless.    i don’t see a light,    but i figure she just wants a drink of water ‘til i hear her grab her keys.    she’s out the door before i can ask where she’s going.    she wouldn’t    ...    she never used to do this.      ’

[bodyawake-blog]

bodyafraid    :

❛          SHE LOOKED HAPPY.          at least you still have that to hold on to.          ❜          @bodyawake.

‘      THAT’S NOT WORTH DICK,      and you know it.    but thanks for the sentiment.      ’

[bodyawake-blog]

ephialts    :

⟡ ⤷     BODYAWAKE » continued.

HIS SENEWS ARE WOVEN FROM voracity  /  he devours fear, craves bloodshed  &  although he is the bearer of countless deaths,  remains insatiable.  magic,  the newly acquired  ichor ,  traverses his body akin stygian waters in hades’ empire:  electrifying,  empowering,  a different kind of endorphin.  he grows impatient,  mercuric orbs fixating on the other with an admixture of interest & anticipation, despite the other’s blandness. ❝ ––––––––––––  nothing personal, though. you seem like a very nice, brooding guy. hey, you on twitter ? we should take a photo before you die. oh, wait…that’s instagram. so many social thingies !  no wonder everyone’s an egomaniac these days…   ❞ his monologue is suddenly interrupted as  realisation  dawns upon him, like a hyperborean gust of wind whipping his face. bafflement takes over his features & lips part, but for the first time, he is temporarily speechless. after a while he comes to his senses, shoulders shaking with hysterical mirth.  ❝ –––––––––––– I’M SORRY, THAT’S… ❞ he exhales loudly, clearing his throat. ❝ i just had the weirdest hallucination ever. it sounded like you were encouraging me to kill you. crazy, right ? ❞

OH,    DON’T GET HIM WRONG.      he doesn’t have a death wish.    might sing a different tune if this turns out to be more than an   empty threat.    something about this guy’s frenetic energy screams   unstable   and a little   manic,    and it’s an odd feeling to not be the strangest person in the room.    but he’s detached.    desensitized.    wouldn’t still be vertical if he pissed his pants with terror every time somebody got in his face and sounded almost   cavalier   about potential violence.

‘      'm not   encouraging.    and i'm not giving you my instagram.    haven't you ever heard the expression   fish or cut bait    —    ?    it’s like that.    indecision's a bitch.      ’