LIVING RELIC.

𝒕𝒉𝒆 𝒘𝒊𝒏𝒅 𝒊𝒔 𝒍𝒐𝒖𝒅𝒆𝒓 𝒕𝒉𝒂𝒏 𝒖𝒔𝒖𝒂𝒍, 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒐𝒏𝒆 𝒎𝒖𝒔𝒕 𝒃𝒆 𝒅𝒚𝒊𝒏𝒈 𝒔𝒐𝒎𝒆𝒘𝒉𝒆𝒓𝒆.

[frfldaaa]

lmao

[frfldaaa]

lmao

[gummygrim]

ever since i was a little girl i knew i wanted to be a stressed adult male protagonist splashing water on his face in the bathroom

[frfldaaa]

might finally give dwight his big boy blog lol

[necro-romantic]

Here is a picture of Jeffery Combs dressed at Herbert West, playing cards. That is all.

[jeffreycombs]

Jeffrey Combs as “Herbert West” in Re-Animator (1985) dir. Stuart Gordon

[frfldaaa]

                                         𝒔𝒉𝒐𝒘 𝒎𝒆 𝒘𝒉𝒂𝒕 𝒚𝒐𝒖 𝒄𝒂𝒏 𝒅𝒐.

[frfldaaa]

@doomedflare, sable: this can't be happening. this isn't real.

oh, it's somewhere new. an astute observation as fog clears and wide, curious eyes are met with bright, burning neon. they're probably holed up in there, whoever it is. blood burns cold like dry ice and without a second thought he's on the move, a familiar recipe of old and new fears turn into a cocktail that tastes like stomach bile bubbling in the back of his throat. it's a long street before him (like springwood, like haddenfield — this was someone's hometown, again) and a movie theater whose sign rises into the sky like a beacon. but a beacon of what — ? hope? fear? or maybe even something new and unexpected.

but dwight would have time to figure that out later, right now his priorities lie in finding and helping the new lost soul that has stumbled into this hellscape.

things are made a little easier as the others who had gone in are accounted for — jake and david, the pair of men already knowing what's on dwight's mind and promising to keep an eye out while they work. ❛ there's something at the statue i think you should see, by the way. ❜ are jake's parting words before running off deeper into wooded area.

the statue?

feet are once again moving as messages processes through the gears of his brain, bringing dwight to the landmark in question, and a bit of graffiti finally catches his attention. oh. oh no.

Mikaela. SABLE.

realization dawns on him like the morning sun, and for the first time in a long dwight feels tired. two little words anchoring him to the spot. these poor girls. it's then his mind is wrenched back to the present by the sound of a generator popping, immediately followed by a woman's scream coming from the theater. you have to dial in and stay focused. reminder rings in his ears like a dreary toll and, armed with this new knowledge, does an about face and sprints in, presumably, sable's direction.

he sees it first, upon entry into small town movie theater; a writhing mass of sagging flesh and bent bones, twitching and unmoving — simply watching. so who moves first? dwight does, slowly. one step; no acknowledgement, second step; still no acknowledgement. brows furrow in thought, every sense drinking in as much information as possible regarding newest killer. but then, far under the heavy breathing and audible movements of unknown specimen before him, dwight hears the soft sound of crying from behind the concessions counter.

❝ hello? ❞ voice is gentle, quieter than usual out of fear of what lurks just around the corner as he approaches, ❝ it's okay, i think whatever's out there isn't — an immediate danger, ❞ probably, hopefully. finally, dwight crouches down next to the counter and, tucked into herself deep in the corner, is a girl he was already familiar with. sable ward, in the flesh. he'd heard plenty about the young woman from mikaela — her girlfriend.

❛ she's probably worried out of her mind and looking for me right now, ❜ she'd told dwight one night, the tears on her face glistening in the firelight, ❛ i miss her so much i'd do anything to see her again, but not — ❜

here. sable's here now, somehow.

this can't be happening. this isn't real.

she hasn't noticed him yet, or is simply so turned in on herself that she's barely acknowledging any external stimuli.

❝ sable, ❞ suddenly, blown out blue eyes focus on him, expression teetering on the edge of confusion, ❝ get up, we have to go — now, ❞ and a hand extends in her direction, green eyes almost pleading as the faintest echo of a heartbeat tickles the back of his mind. we need to move. instead sable stares, almost inquisitively, at the watch on dwight's wrist, hypnotized by the quiet, rhythmic ticking. poor thing's in shock. ❝ sable, ❞ firmer now, and her attention returns to him, a soft question beginning to form on her tongue before pair freezes as that heartbeat returns — louder. ❝ we have to go — now, ❞ he repeats, yet still she does not take his hand, and the heartbeat grows closer, and now he becomes desperate with the hope of preventing tragedy.

❝ i know where mikaela is, and if you want to see her again we need to get out of here. right. now. ❞ and there it is! something like life, like hope, burns behind pale eyes at the mention of lost love, and she takes his hand.

[frfldaaa]

thinking about him (felix richter). apparently

[redlipstickresurrected]

Amu aka Amu’s Vision aka Amritpal Dhaliwal (Punjabi, b. 1999, Punjab, India, based Bay Area, CA, USA) - They Come Out at Night, 2022, Mixed Media

[frfldaaa]

i love dwight fairfield

[campcomputers]

fate, inevitability.

[frfldaaa]

@doomedflare, jake: [...]

the earth is razing itself beneath you, amber shards shining bright just below the dirt and grass and blood and viscera, bright streaks beginning to burn into the deep fog that curl desperately around dangling ankles, seeking to avoid that which is unavoidable for all in the end. everything is shaking around him, every little jolt to hook embedded deep in left shoulder feels like a shot of lightning through bloody, hanging body, yet there is a sense of peace that coagulates his blood anyway, sweet and cloying like honey, knowing the others will make it out alive in his steed.

y'know, i've never really though about it, but the view is kinda nice from up here. i'll just close my eyes and —

momentary respite is ruined as familiar, rough hands grab martyr and lift him with practiced ease back into the reality of the situation. you are still alive. eyes fly open at the realization, a silent gasp on his lips as expression of surprise is met with dark eyes burning with determination, with a promise made long ago to keep one another safe for as long as they remained in this hell together. you're a good man, jake park.

he lands roughly on still-erupting ground, right arm slinging over jake's shoulders, his own jacket slick with blood and viscera.

❝ what are you doing? ❞ there is no malice in dwight's words, not even confusion, just the underlying, ever-burning 'why' that smolders at the bottom of a heart that is always giving and never receiving, for creatures like him need not want anymore. as long as the others are safe, i'll be fine with what happens next. yet guardian angel swoops in to save him anyway, and dwight can feel tears pricking at the corners of red eyes, leaning into jake's side for support.

i couldn't just leave you there.

words are spoken easily, as if it were the most obvious thing in the world. the gate's in sight, and soon, the safety of campfire's warm glow to rest bruised bones next to. the only heartbeat he hears is his own for once — they're free!

❝ jake, ❞ blood still stains his lips, wounds slowly mending from the inside out once they begin the long walk home, ❝ you're a good man. ❞ no verbal response is given, but there's a squeeze from the arm around dwight's waist. suddenly, glasses bounce as he lets out a weak chuckle. ❝ sometimes, i'm glad you're a bad listener. ❞

[frfldaaa]

how many of y'all are gonna take one for the team (me) and put your muse in the fog?

[ducissatenebrarum]

Skinny Hare: Hieroglyphs from the temple of Horus at Edfu.

[hugs-and-stabbies]

“We made it out...!”

[notmorbid]

things we lost in the fire.

dialogue prompts from things we lost in the fire: stories by mariana enríquez.

my family thinks i'm crazy.

if you know the neighborhood, it's not dangerous. or it's less dangerous.

it's a question of not being afraid.

i wasn't a sweet or innocent child.

there's no such thing as witches.

you shouldn't believe everything you hear.

what do you know about what goes on around here?

you live here, but you're from a different world.

you've always been a little freak.

please don't smoke in the car.

in my family, no one prays.

i saw it in a movie.

tomorrow, you're telling me everything.

our parents will never even know.

i just wanted to piss you off.

i hated innocent people.

i don't know why i keep calling it an accident.

the truth is, i don't know which stories were made up.

you're getting morbid.

those movies are a bad influence on you.

the house tells me the stories. you don't hear it?

you've never been afraid of anything.

you seem like some sort of metaphor.

is it a story you like to tell?

i guess we'll never know, huh?

everyone smokes here.

i don't want you to read cards for me.

you citified little prick.

i almost always believe you.

i don't know if it already happened, or if it's going to happen.

that's your family?

i don't love you anymore.

you've got on your 'tough guy' face.

death is the only problem without a solution.

i don't even feel like crying anymore.

i see everything, but can't do anything.

i hate when people call them 'lightning bugs'.

i'm sorry. sometimes i'm impossible.

things take longer to disappear out here.

you listen, but you never answer.

we all saw it, but we tried to ignore it.

don't you see him?

dentists are steeped in bad taste and sadism.

i couldn't just leave you there.

i've never thrown a party in my life.

i detest birthdays.

i want to be alone.

let whatever has to happen happen.

i'm not dreaming. you don't feel pain in dreams.

i don't want to be beautiful. i want to be strong and razor-sharp.

you shouldn't have come.

in his house, the dead man waits dreaming.

i've tried, but there's no getting out. you're not going to get out, either.

don't play dumb. you were never stupid.

i believe sleep and death are the same thing.

the problem is, what god are we talking about?

sad people are merciless.

how do you know it's me?

how can someone live like that?

no one can watch you 24 hours a day.

everyone has a price.