Let the Bodies Hit the Floor

Sawyer Watson/ Dead since 1980/ Sociopath/killer/

[rxpperofhearts]

daughterdeath:

@rxpperofhearts

Covered in blood. This wasn’t something that Salem was usually opposed to, but this time was different. This time it left an emptiness in her eyes, a stiffness in her step. She had ghosted to the attic, not knowing where else to turn. God knows she couldn’t go to her mother. Dropping the knife she’d used to butcher her brother, the sound of it clinking to the floor was her first clue of being present. Soon followed a hesitant, lost voice —- “D-dad…?” 

Pouring a glass of bourbon, Sawyer was about to sharpen one of his knives when he heard something clatter behind him. Confused--and a little annoyed that someone was able to sneak in behind him--the sociopath turned. Eyes traveling from the knife that was on the ground to the young ghost standing above it, Sawyer’s eyes narrowed in on the blood that covered her. 

Opening his mouth to say something about her entrance, Sawyer was caught off guard by the word that came from Salem’s lips. Eyebrows lifting, the ghost took a few steps closer to Samantha’s daughter--carefully pushing the knife away, just in case she got a little stab happy. Taking her by the shoulders, Sawyer lead her to his bed. “Tell me what happened.” 

[rxpperofhearts]

ofblackwidcws:

No man could ever tame Harley. No one could ever own her, for she was her own and demanded to be so with a fiery passion. No man could ever pull her away from her path or lead her down a road she didn’t want to go down. No man —- a sudden voice reached the blonde and tore her from her thoughts, she’d been laying on her bed twirling a knife against her finger just to the point where it wouldn’t mutilate her. One man, maybe. But Sawyer didn’t count like that. Harley saw them as equals, and he could never make her do something she didn’t want to do. But how she did come running like a puppy. Ghosting to the hallway Sawyer was lingering in, knife still in hand and spinning in the same manner as before, the sociopath grinned and cocked her head. “You rang?” she sang back. 

The familiar tingle of someone ghosting around him, Sawyer allowed a lazy grin to spread across his face. If he was telling the truth, he had known from the start that Harley would show up. She always did. It was almost sad, but over the years he had grown comfortable with the thought that whenever he snapped his fingers--she’d come running. Eyes drifting to the knife that she had twisting around between her fingers, something feral came into his smile. 

Ghosting quickly behind her, he produced the knife that he been hiding in his back pocket. Cutting Harley’s arm deftly, the sociopath made sure he was a few feet away before she turned. “You’re it...” Laughing, he ghosted to the living room. 

[rxpperofhearts]

(@ofblackwidcws)

Sawyer cracked his neck as he appeared in one of the many hallways the Murder House had to offer. He had grown slightly restless during the past few hours in his attic, and something seemed to be calling him out. “Harley.” His voice did a funny little lift on the last part of her name. “Oh, Harley.” 

[rxpperofhearts]

poltergeistisms:

The sudden presence of Sawyer had barely effected the poltergeist. She flickered in and out of sight, though remained in her spot by the window. There were times, much like this, where she lost all of her humanity. She did not perceive herself as anything but a dead girl, something beyond human, but lacking that solid ground the living seemed to possess. She was not human. She was what they were afraid of, unsure of. Samantha was that unknown fear most everyone had in the back of their minds, she was the answer to an ageless question.

There was a long —- if not uncomfortably long —- moment before the girl turned stiffly to look in Sawyer’s direction. Gray eyes like static meeting his without emotion. And as another moment passed, the window continued to crack, breaking the silences she left in between.

An uneasy feeling slithered down Sawyer’s back. The sociopath had never experienced fear as the people he murdered had. Of course, up until the curse Ria had put on him, he had always enjoyed the sweet smell that his victims would give off during their final moments. 

Is that what she is doing in this exact moment? 

It wasn’t the fear of death that had caused his unease. Sawyer had experienced reoccurring deaths plenty of times before it was the question of what set her off. Especially when he had made it so clear it was him. 

Taking a cautious step forward, Sawyer scanned Samantha closely. Eyeing the window as it continued to crack, he was ready to ghost away in case it shattered. 

“You’ve proven your point. Scare the big, bad sociopath. Ready to drop it?” 

[poltergeistisms]

( @rxpperofhearts )

A cooler than usual draft swept through the third floor hallway where Sam stood, staring blankly out of the window in which she fell to her death. Her safe spot. She had usually found herself there when she was in these unwelcoming moods —- territorial in definition. Not a person or a soul but a dark and deranged thing that silently screamed merely through energy, “Get out. Stay away.”  And most did, particularly the living. The vibes were enough to send shivers through anyone’s nerves, send them tripping over themselves in the other direction. A blink of her lifeless eyes and a crackle quietly hummed through the enclosed space, the glass on the window splitting like veins, an inch at a time.

[rxpperofhearts]

Lounging on his makeshift bed in the attic, Sawyer had been focused on whittling at his bedpost when he felt something strange tugging at him. What is that? In his long afterlife he had never felt a tug to go anywhere. The question now became whether or not he should follow it. 

Scrunching his eyebrows together, the sociopath ghosted from his bed to where the little tug had been pulling him. If he had to breathe, Sawyer would have been able to see his breath. The vibe of the entire hallway seemed to be intensely oppressive--getting people to leave with an intensely negative energy. Fighting the force, Sawyer stepped closer. His interest was piqued as he recognized Samantha standing at the window. 

Leaning against a wall, only a few points behind her, Sawyer eyed her curiously. “The creepy vibe has always left me immensely turned on.” 

[rxpperofhearts]

 poltergeistisms:

( @rxpperofhearts )

Civilization didn’t interest Sam much. Holding down a building or dealing with other survivors was never on her list of things she enjoyed either, and so the petite brunette kept to the woods mostly. Lounging up in a tree with her newly found bag of supplies, she dug through what she thought would be worth keeping. She’d picked it from a camp not too far away as that group let their guard down, though it seemed as though she’d picked a nearly worthless bag. Some fresh apples, a half drunken bottle of water, a chipped pocket knife. A thin blanket. Some food wrappers. Nothing to get too excited about. Dropping the wrappers to the ground, her senses were alerted as she heard rustling down below, a few yards off, and from there she ducked down and peaked out to see what was causing the noise. Eyes narrowed as she caught sight of a decent sized group of walkers making their way from the direction of the camp she’d just visited, and by the looks of it, they’d just recently fed.

It wasn’t unusual for Sawyer to find himself out in the woods these days--especially alone. The group he had stitched together with only the worthiest of survivors were fun in their own right; however, he grew bored quite a bit with the tedious nature that came with a leader. Usually when he got like this, it meant that the sociopath would throw one of his minions in with the number of walkers he had in his possession--often ending with his minions demise. This time he figured it would be best if he kept the people he surrounded himself with, if only for a little bit longer. 

Currently, Sawyer was crouched behind a tree. He needed a kill. Sure it wouldn’t be fresh, considering the dead were now un-dead, but it would release some tension. Hair rose up on the back of his neck, almost like a sixth sense, before the rustling of the grass announced the arrival of a group of walkers. Peering around the tree, his fingers wrapped around his metal pipe--body poised for strike. 

[rxpperofhearts]

                                       Survival Mode: Task 005

--The Person--

Name: Sawyer Watson

Weapon of Choice: A steel pipe, one end sharpened to appear as a   

                            shank/zombies

--The Backstory--

-Sawyer had been living in Los Angeles when the outbreak happened. Lost his favorite knife in the head of one of his recent kills. 

-Killed a leader of one of the notable gangs in the area, assumed leadership. 

-Since the outbreak, he’s been slowly collecting people into a small group. Uses a lot of fear tactics/mind tricks, as well as walkers to encourage people to join him. 

-Quick to anger, will kill the living and walkers in the same breath. Only has a few people he would protect (even then most times those people are in danger). 

[poltergeistisms]

( @rxpperofhearts )

The house was still, quiet —- midnight a few hours past now, though there was a hungry energy dwelling within the poltergeist. It’d been a while since she’d really haunted anyone. She couldn’t remember one as good as what she’d put T.J. through a few years back, all for the sake of him believing. Leaning against the corner wall at the end of the hallway to the sorority wing, the spirit had her head cocked as she stared down the hall. Expression blank, eyes dark. The single sound of her nail tapping on the wall echoed through the passageway in an unsettling rhythm, like the ticking of a clock winding down to a notable moment in time. Counting down to the bloodshed. She was feeling violent, forgotten. As though the students needed a reminder of whose house they were living in, and oh —- they’d be reminded tonight.

[rxpperofhearts]

It had been too long. At least that’s always how Sawyer felt when he had to go a couple months without killing someone. In this house it was hard not to kill everyone he saw and just dump their bodies over the property line so he didn’t have to deal with their insufferable presence for the rest of eternity. The energy coursing through him felt like electricity running through a live wire--volatile and deadly. Making sure to stay just behind Samantha, Sawyer watched in excited glee as she began her work. Since Halloween, he couldn’t help the thrill that came from watching her go to work. A sinister grin splitting his lips open into what could only be described as wolfish, he cracked his neck--ready and waiting for the tiny female to give the go ahead. 

[rxpperofhearts]

Looks like your ex has a new beau, with a sharper knife. Losing your touch?

@yourfriendlyneighborhoodkiller @sydneyreed-inthemurderhouse

[sydneyreed-inthemurderhouse]

It had been months since new books had come into the library and, although most of her time was spent with Marley, Syd liked to spend any time she had to herself taking her mind off things by hunting through the shelves for a new paper resident of the house. She’d managed to find a copy of Moby Dick- a book she hadn’t seen in the house for a couple of years- and quickly tucked it into her cardigan, before making a cup of hot chocolate and beginning to trudge up the stairs on her way back to her bedroom. @rxpperofhearts

[rxpperofhearts]

Sawyer had been feeling particularly reclusive for the past couple of months--the killer that had been able to steal his monocher leaving him in a broody mood. Deciding he needed to venture out and find something to distract his mind, the sociopath figured that visiting the library was long overdue. Having read all the books when he was bored one year, he hadn't stepped foot in the musty room since.

Taking the long way, he made his way to the steps and started taking them two at a time.

[rxpperofhearts]

Sawyer Watson’s Moodboard

“Do you want to know why I use a knife? Guns are too quick. You can’t savor all the… little emotions. In… you see, in their last moments, people show you who they really are. So in a way, I know your friends better than you ever did. Would you like to know which of them were cowards?”

[ofblackwidcws]

( @rxpperofhearts )

“If I didn’t know any better, I’d say you found a way to sneak out to make a few kills here and there,” a lopsided grin took hold of the ghost’s features as she prowled into the attic, a bit of a twirl in her step as she tossed a newspaper onto Sawyer’s bed. ‘L.A. RIPPER STRIKES AGAIN’. Call her old fashioned, but it never got old ——- seeing headlines printed in black, putting local murderers and their victims on display. This one just screamed copycat in her humble opinion.

[rxpperofhearts]

Body stretched out on the bed, Sawyer peeked one eye open as the blonde made her entrance. It wasn't until the newspaper landed next to his leg that he removed one of the arms from behind his head to lift the front page. Annoyance flashed in his eyes as he read the headline. "L.A. Ripper? They can't be serious."

[rxpperofhearts]

Bottle of bourbon sitting on the end table next to him, Sawyer had found his way to the living room–a rare haunt he had begun to take up since his recent bout of cabin fever in the attic had left his lamp and a few other antiques destroyed. Drinking from a tumbler, the male closed his eyes a sense of bliss coursing through his veins as the warm liquid traveled through his body.

[behinddeathsdoor-blog]

Marley hummed to herself as she skipped from room to room. She’d searched high and low for her Elsa doll, and she was starting to wonder if one of the adults had taken it by accident. Entering the living room she headed straight for the drawers in the entertainment unit, even though there was no way the doll would fit in any of them. Sensing another presence in the room she turned, spotting the stranger on the couch. Suddenly she was nervous. Her parents had warned her about some of the people in the house, was this one of the mean ones? She stood, glancing towards the door and trying to determine whether or not she should run for it before the man spotted her.

[rxpperofhearts]

Footsteps invaded the ghost's ears. Silently cursing the little amount of time he had to himself in the public area, he opened one eye--scanning the room for the intruder. Eye landing on the young child, he froze. As far as Sawyer knew, there were only three children in the house. Salem, Blair, and Sydney's. And of course this little one had to be the spitting image of the woman he still had a hard time letting go. A muscle in his jaw twitched before he relaxed. "What exactly do you think you're doing?"

[rxpperofhearts]

Bottle of bourbon sitting on the end table next to him, Sawyer had found his way to the living room--a rare haunt he had begun to take up since his recent bout of cabin fever in the attic had left his lamp and a few other antiques destroyed. Drinking from a tumbler, the male closed his eyes a sense of bliss coursing through his veins as the warm liquid traveled through his body.

[trev-collins]

Halloween can’t come soon enough. 

[rxpperofhearts]

It's sure to be a thrilling one.

[strxngemagic]

Not sure if you’re up here – but I come in peace.

[rxpperofhearts]

[poltergeistisms]

Keeping her narrowed gaze at Autumn, Sam simply listened as her son spoke up, and as Sawyer responded. Tilting her head slightly, she found herself studying the other brunette, the way she stood so still when she spotted the sociopathic male had her wondering if she was one of his victims. That alone had her feeling a bit more protective than usual over her son, as she truly didn’t know the girl’s intentions. It wasn’t until then that Sam allowed her gaze to darken, her unblinking stare remaining on the girl.

[thesilentson-blog]

Looking between Sawyer and Autumn, Blair himself seemed to exhibit an influx of nervous energy. “N-no, she was just making sure I was okay,” he stammered out, attention falling to the floor as he took a brave step forward. “–I am okay, like I said, I was just… looking for you, ‘cause I wanted to talk to you about… something,” he replied, choosing his words wisely – which more or less ended up sounding very vague. 

[autumnclarke]

Being around Sawyer, even for a short while, had made Autumn the most uncomfortable she had felt since she died. She wasn’t ready to face her killer, not yet, and she needed to get out of there. Unsure of her ghosting abilities, the spirit simply turned herself invisible from the sight of the others and very carefully walked away, getting far away from the group as fast as she could.

[rxpperofhearts]

A cruel grin spread across Sawyer’s features when Autumn simply vanished. Of course she would be the one to say things whenever someone wasn’t around only to run in fear when the person would show up. He expected nothing less from the brat. “That girl has always left a bad taste in my mouth,” he said, his grin turning to a smile when he looked back down to Blair, and up to Sam. “Want to take this up to the attic?”