I’m still in horror mode and writing up some scary stuff. However, I am also being quite the procrastinator today!
So, if anyone wants to help me both procrastinate and steep in horror vibes...
Send me in a blurb about you and I’ll do a ship and blurb for you and a character in some sort of spooky situation.
Ship blurbs all posted below the cut because I enjoyed them!
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Devil Kylo for Maybe-Your-Left
Your thighs rubbed together almost of their own accord at the feeling of the hot breath on your neck. So hot. Unnaturally hot. Tantamount to steam against your delicate skin, making you flush and shudder.
To say that it made focusing your intent difficult was quite the understatement. Making a deal with the Devil was not as easy as you thought it would be. Simple yes, easy no. Keeping a clear picture of your deepest desires at the front of your mind was no easy feat when those desires were rapidly being replaced by an overwhelming desire for the Devil himself.
Pulling away from your neck, Kylo took your hand in his heated grip. He trailed the razored edge of his quill along the inside of your palm and down the length of your finger. Pressing harder when he reached the tip, a single drop of your blood plumed beneath his quill.
“You wish to give me everything,” the words curled from Kylo’s lips as a statement. There was no question.
“Oh, yes,” you moaned far too lewdly for entering a contract.
Kylo’s eyes gleamed with all the fire stolen from Hell itself as he brought your finger to trace your blood along the line at the bottom of the parchment. The smear of crimson was a stark contrast to the beautifully detailed calligraphy that sprawled across the ancient paper.
Without lifting his gaze from yours, he brought your finger to his mouth. Something between a groan and growl rumbled in his chest when he sucked the last of your blood from your fingertip.
You now honestly had no idea what exactly it was that you had sold your soul for. Oh, well. If the Devil gets your soul sooner rather than later, maybe that won’t be so bad after all.
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Vampire Kylo for Contesa-Lui-Alucard
Kylo loved your midnight strolls. He was at home in the darkness. His senses flourished in the darkest nights.
He loved the way your face shone in the moonlight. Looking at you with his exceptional night vision, it looked almost as though you glowed from within. As though the moonlight lived in your very skin.
He would take your hand, interlacing his thick fingers through your own. You would often look up at the moon and the stars, and Kylo would always look at you.
Oh yes, Kylo loved your nighttime walks together. Your hunts together.
The brief moments when Kylo’s attention was stolen from you were when he would spot someone else who had ventured out. Sometimes couples, sometimes dog walkers, sometimes joggers. Those were his favorites. Joggers who were already too winded to scream.
You knew Kylo needed fresh blood. It was a fact of life that you accepted long ago. You had no choice, if you wanted to be involved with a vampire.
You couldn’t deny that it had become a thrill to watch him hunt. When he zeroed in on his prey. The way his eyes shone brighter, almost gleaming in the darkness with unnatural lumosity.
After his kill; when his hair was tousled from the violent speed of his bite tearing into a jugular; when blood dripped from the tips of his fangs down over his plush lips; he would throw his head back as if in ecstasy. He would relish in the surge of life that would course through his body.
It was a feeling that was second only to the feeling of you. Fresh blood could make him feel another’s lifeforce, but with you? With you, he could feel truly alive himself.
After his kill, he would rush you. He would scoop you into his powerful embrace attacking your own neck. But, only the softest and most adoring kisses ever touched your skin. He was reverent in his treatment of you. And nights when he hunted with you, he would worship you the most ardently.
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Werewolf Flip for Finn-Ray-Nal-Beads
‘Twas all Hallow’s Eve and the moon was round.
Dressed as a pirate wrench, you wanted your man who couldn’t be found.
Piles of paperwork, criminals in cuffs, it was safe to say that at the station he was stuck.
A worse situation you couldn’t imagine, than to be alone on Halloween, dressed to kill, wanting to f—-.
...
I didn’t, but I was so tempted, you deviant!
...
Flip was always extra surly on Halloween. He was always extra horny during a full moon. Just his fuckin’ luck that this year the full moon hit right on Halloween.
As if bein’ a werewolf who was tryin’ damned hard not to lose his shit and rip some throats out wasn’t bad enough, he had to deal with your bullshit on top of it.
You probably thought it was real fuckin’ cute to come to the station dressed as fuckin’ bambi and parade your spotted little ass around.
He knew you were a dish without you dressin’ up like a walking platter of venison.
He glared at you when you waltzed into the station, shakin’ your ass around for all the perps who were waiting to be booked to see.
Flip asked you real nicely through gritted teeth to wait in his truck while he finished up.
But, like the smartass you are, you told him that you never wanted him to finish without you.
He wondered if you still thought all that teasin’ horseshit was a good idea. Now that you were locked in a holding cell with him. Now that your face was shoved into a bed that hadn’t been washed in who knows how long while your ass was pulled up in the air. Now that his fat fuckin’ cock was slamming into your dripping pussy almost hard enough to knock the wind out of you.
Flip’s eyes flashed yellow and his teeth glinted a little sharper as he bared them in ecstasy, consumed with pleasure as he thrust into you.
“You like workin’ me up?” Flip growled as he pounded into you. His voice much closer to an actual growl during the full moon. “I’ll hush this little puppy the fuck up for you.”
You could only moan as he fucked you roughly.
“The moon’s not the only thing that’s gonna be full tonight, darlin,’” Flip snarled as he pumped load after thick hot load of his cum into you.
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Flip for Babbushka
Flip hated Halloween for good reason. It seemed like people just tended to get crazier the entire month of October, culminating on the holiday. Maybe he’d hate it less if he wasn’t on the front lines dealing with the fallout himself.
As much as he hated it, he knew that you hated it even more. Every year was just a struggle for you to endure the holiday. More than anything, he always tried to ensure that you had a nice time. Or, at minimum, that you were sufficiently distracted. He was pretty damn good at that part.
Downtown Colorado Springs was doing a Halloween festival. A street fair of sorts that he thought wouldn’t be too bad. You two could get cider or caramel apples, something sweet, and then head home where he could enjoy something even sweeter for himself.
Of course, it was just his luck on this fuckin’ holiday that a couple of young drunk punks had to start shit. Just fuckin’ beautiful.
It was just a catcall at first. Just a wolf-whistle from a drunk college asshole and his buddy.
Turning immediately, Flip growled aggressively at him to “Back the fuck off.”
The kid couldn’t just shut up. No, no. He had to go and tell you, “Keep that guard dog on a leash, baby.”
Oh, fuck, Flip lamented as you turned around to face them. Charging ahead, you hurled insults that would have made them shrivel in shame had they been sober enough to fully appreciate them.
Sometimes that mouth of yours wrote checks that Flip had to cash. This was going to be one of those times.
He saw one of the punks draw an arm back, drunkenly telegraphing his intent level a smack at your smart mouth.
Flip was faster. His huge right fist crashed into the man’s jaw in an eruption of blood and flying teeth. Dropping instantly to the ground, the man was curling into a fetal position when his friend lunged at Flip.
Flip ducked under the oncoming swing, pummeling his left fist into the man’s solar plexus. As he straightened, Flip’s right fist hooked him in an uppercut. Already doubled over, the man took the punch square in the face, the force slinging him over backwards to hit the ground on his back.
As Flip stood, huffing above the two men, clenching and unclenching his fists, you rushed to his side. He was fine, of course. Your breath caught in your throat as you appraised him. Hair disheveled, scarlet splashed across his clothes and face, his fists dripping with the other mens’ blood, huge chest heaving. He looked impossibly sexy. You couldn’t keep the proud smile from your face.
Flip deepened his scowl to an intentionally comic degree when you told him that now at least he looked like he was in costume. A blood splattered and slightly roughed up zombie lumberjack perhaps? A burly werewolf who was at the tail end of a rough full moon?
Putting a hand at the back of your neck, he pulled you close against him as he led you away. Enhancing his natural growl, he rumbled low in your ear, “And here people think I’m the trouble maker.”
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Killer Charlie for Direnightshade
Although you’ve bonded over your shared ‘hobbies,’ you both agreed that a night out was in order. Just a regular date night. The kind you both pretended suited you perfectly before you each discovered your shared proclivities.
After a perfect dinner at a restaurant that you thought was entirely too nice for a Wednesday night, you and Charlie walked hand in hand through Central Park. Thunder rolled above you and lightening split the sky, tinging the air with electricity almost as palpable as that which the two of you share. The rain itself was still a few miles away, offering you the perfect stormy stroll.
You thought that you had seen Charlie unhinged before. You had certainly seen him kill before. But you had never seen anything like the malice, the rage, that consumed him when the man who had been lurking in the shadows lunged for your purse.
His strike was just as swift and twice as deadly as a venomous snake when Charlie slashed the man’s throat open. You’ll never know how he had time to retrieve his favorite scalpel. All you saw was a flash of steel and Charlie’s face razed by an expression of sinister ferocity as he tore the burglar’s worthless life from his body.
It was almost beautiful the way the crimson arched across Charlie’s handsome features.
As the now lifeless body slumped to the ground, Charlie pulled you hard into his embrace, his lips crashing against yours. The taste of copper that flooded your mouth along with his need for you sent goosebumps trailing the length of your spine.
Perhaps it’s true. Date nights do help keep the spark alive.
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Pale for Wingsoftheangels
Pale had no fuckin’ idea why he agreed to this bullshit. Fuck, he had no fuckin’ idea why you’d want to do somethin’ like this anyway. Go wandering around in some abandoned building that was supposed to be haunted. On Halloween.
“Fuck, sweetheart, you want to see some scary shit? Let me take you home for Thanksgiving,” Pale teased you. “That’ll put hair on your chest.”
Not that Pale believed in any of that haunted shit or anything. It just seemed like a waist of a perfectly good evening.
Now, the two of you had been wandering the hallways of the old abandoned asylum in Jersey for the better part of an hour. And while Pale loved you holdin’ his hand and clingin’ onto him, he wanted a little more out of his evening.
“I think they conned you, sweetheart,” Pale squeezed your hand. “I have more skeletons in my own closet than this place does.”
“It just turned midnight,” you pulled him in for a kiss. “We have to stay through the witching hour.”
Pale sighed dramatically, tilting his head up to glare at the roof.
“Alright, come out ghosties,” Pale boomed, amplifying his naturally loud voice so it echoed off the walls and down the sprawling hallways. “Let’s see some action, you dead sonsabitches.”
“Pale!” You smacked his chest roughly, “You don’t want to disrespect the spirits!”
“I guess when ya think about it, ghost are thin skinned, aren’t they?” Pale laughed, earning another smack from you.
You opened your mouth to scold him further when a loud scrape pulled your attention down the hallway. It sounded like something between a chair being scooted across the floor and nails on a chalkboard.
Pale stiffened beside you, his huge hand locking around yours. He took a step forward, placing himself between you and the noise.
You both stood, frozen in place, trying to penetrate the darkened hallway ahead. Somehow it seemed a little darker than it was just minutes earlier.
Pale jumped almost as much as you did when it sounded again. This time it sounded like nails on a chalkboard mixed with a screaming moan. This time it sounded much much closer.
You looked to Pale, hoping to absorb some of his bravado. The look on his face made your heart threaten to break through your ribs. He was focused ahead on something you couldn’t see, but his eyes were wide and his face was blanched.
His normally deep and commanding voice was a shaky whisper when he told you, “We need to fuckin’ run, sweetheart.”
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Pale for Millenialcatlady
Pale was frankly sick of your pussy-footing around. He’d heard you talk about all this occult stuff and, not that he gave a shit, but he thought that you should get over your fears of this bullshit. In general, that’s just good fuckin’ life advice.
So, for Halloween Pale thought that he’d do somethin’ fun for you.
He cooked your favorite meal and lit your apartment with only candles throughout. That would also be a good atmosphere for what he had planned for later.
You came home to find Pale setting something in the center of the table. A fucking Ouija board. He smirked up at you.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You asked incredulously.
“I’m sick of hearin’ you whine about this shit,” Pale gestured at the board. “You’re into this witchy shit. Let’s see what you’ve got, sweetheart.”
After settling at the table around the board, it took several minutes for Pale to even pretend to take it seriously.
Finally, you got him to place his hands on the planchette to circle it around the board together.
“Are there any spirits here?” You asked tentatively.
Pale rolled his eyes at you. “Ya actually think that even dead people would wanna answer boring shit like that?”
He circled the board again as he smiled at you. “Am I gonna get lucky tonight?”
He laughed harder when you smacked him.
After a few more minutes of his absurd questions and no events from the Ouija board, Pale was getting bored.
“You ready to have a good time tonight?” Pale asked playfully as he pulled you up out of your chair. He stooped to hoist you up over his shoulder.
He had already begun carrying you to the bedroom when the planchette traveled to ‘Yes.’
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Chainsaw Clyde for Couldntfuckingtellya
Clyde liked to call it the ‘Logan Family Curse.’ His family always scoffed at him for it. It could be considered a sickness. Some fancier people might have just called it mental illness. Clyde didn’t like labels like that. A curse sounded a lot better to him. A lot more like bad luck rather than bad genes.
But, whatever you chose to call it, the Logan family definitely had some quirks. Some eccentricities that not many people would understand. And he couldn’t really blame them. Clyde and his siblings just had a different sorta upbringing, that was all.
Clyde had honed his bartender skills early on by mixin’ up mama’s special cocktail that would make even the burliest man’s feet fail him. His mama would serve it to her ‘guests’ to get them nice and relaxed before the fun started.
Jimmy had practiced those fast hands and quarter mile sprints that made him a football star chasin’ down anyone wily enough to escape. They didn’t escape Jimmy.
Mellie learned to do hair on corpses hanging from meat hooks in the barn. She could practice for hours and they’d never twitch or complain.
Speaking of meat hooks, Clyde has a real nice one fitted to attach to his prosthetic for special occasions.
You had been dating Clyde for six wonderful months. He was the man of your dreams. You knew just from the way he looked at you that you were special to him too. He had even invited you to Thanksgiving dinner to meet his whole family.
He knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that you were the One when you didn’t run away screamin’ that night. When, even after you learned everything, that Jimmy didn’t have to run you down like he had all the others.
You were a keeper. Clyde had never doubted it for a second.
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Clyde for Hopeamarsu
Clyde loved goin’ on walks with you. He loved takin’ you out into the woods, just gettin’ away from everything and enjoyin’ each other’s company.
Often, he would pack a dinner for you both to eat together while watchin’ the sunset. He would hold you close, pulling you against his chest and snuggling into you.
Desert would always include lazy kisses and roaming hands. And often much more.
Tonight was one of those nights.
When Clyde finally rolled off of you, you were both satisfied to the point of exhaustion. You dozed off in each other’s arms as the last rays of sunlight dipped below the horizon.
You were roused when Clyde shifted beneath you.
“We must’ve really been worn out, darlin,” Clyde mumbled huskily. “The moon’s already up.”
Looking around, the full moon was indeed high in the night sky. Your only light source in the otherwise darkened forest.
After packing everything back up, Clyde took your hand to walk back to his truck. The darkness shouldn’t be a problem. You two had come out here a hundred times. In the daylight.
The darkness shouldn’t be a problem you kept telling yourself. Even though you should have gotten back to the truck thirty minutes ago.
In the moonlight, you could see Clyde chewing his lip. He was walking slower now, unsure of his bearings, even though he didn’t want to worry you by sayin’ so.
The forest seemed thicker around you now. Or maybe it just seemed claustrophobic because you were slowing becoming trapped in it.
Suddenly, Clyde stopped, his body going rigid beside you.
Following his stare, ahead you saw something hanging in a tree. No, two somethings. Looking closer you could see they were a pair of crudely designed poppets. One was larger than the other. That one only had one arm.
Your heart began to pound in your ears as Clyde’s grip on your hand tightened until it was nearly painful.
Something rustled in the woods ahead of you.
“You hear that, Clyde?” your voice was trembling to match your body.
“I heard her,” Clyde responded low without looking at you, his eyes fixed ahead. “I see her too.”
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Ronnie for Jyn-Z-Solo
Ronnie was a self-admitted movie nerd. He found no shame in owning that he had the extended editions of every Lord of the Rings and Hobbit movies memorized. And don’t even get him started on Star Wars. That conversation could continue for hours, even if it was largely one sided.
He particularly enjoyed finding hidden gems. Movies that were rare and unique. Even better if they were banned for some reason. When he learned of your penchant for foreign horror films, he delved in head first. He took it as a personal quest to find the most obscure and the scariest movies he could.
Friday nights were taken to another level when Ronnie would pop his most recent horror find into his old school VHS player and curl up with you on the couch. Whether they were genuinely spine tingling or comical flops, you would both always be much more focused on each other than the movie itself before the credits rolled.
Tonight, Ronnie had dredged up a movie that had been banned throughout Asia. You had no idea how he found these things. You hadn’t even been able to google this one.
But, it was a good one. You had goosebumps only minutes in. Something about it seemed so real. Almost as if something from the tv screen was looking back out at you both as you watched.
Ronnie didn’t mind. He internally applauded himself for finding a flick that would have you holding onto him for dear life within the first few minutes.
It was entrancing how the atmosphere of the room seemed to change along with the tone of the movie. As if the air itself was growing more sinister with each passing minute.
Chuckling at you fondly the third time you buried your face against his chest, Ronnie stroked his warm hand along your back. He used the opportunity to push your back down onto the couch, settling over you to kiss you deeply as his hands smoothed gently along your body.
Ronnie was so consumed by the feeling of your lovely lips on his, by the feeling of your soft skin under his hands, that he didn’t notice when the video started to skip. Not that he would have cared.
When the air in the room cooled to a frosty chill, it didn’t faze him. He was heated enough for both of you.
Finally, an eerie sigh drew Ronnie’s attention and yours back to the screen.
It was with a sigh of great reluctance that Ronnie lifted himself from your body to search for his machete when the dark haired girl began crawling out of the screen, lurching toward you in a sickening grasping crawl.
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Dan for Thegreenmatt
Dan really brought a lot to the table in a relationship. Of course he was caring, affectionate, kind. But he was also smart as hell, capable, quick to think on his feet, and, above all, he was a master at staying cool under pressure.
He always gave his very best for you. He ensured that he made it home in time to take you to the Halloween party you’d be raving about for weeks. He didn’t try to hurry you, even though he had to wait an extra thirty minutes for you to finish getting ready.
Although, he did think it odd that he couldn’t find any news stations to watch as you added the finishing touches to your makeup. Nothing but static on every one. Strange.
The two of you had planned to walk to the party. It was only a few blocks away and strolling hand in hand with Dan amid the falling October leaves sounded like a dream.
His hand was warm as he held yours, bringing your knuckles to his lips every so often as you walked. The streets where suspiciously vacant and it seemed as though there were fewer lights than should be shining from the windows of the buildings you passed. Even the store fronts you passed looked darker than usual.
Dan saw him first. The man shambling toward you along the street ahead. His movement was all wrong. He walked as though every bone is in his body was broken, his limbs only held together by wires and guided by a shaking puppeteer.
Instinctively, Dan pulled you behind him. The streets were littered tooth junkies these days. There was no telling what some hopped up punk might try.
It was then that Dan noticed the others. Both of you had been so focused on each other that you hadn’t noticed the slowly moving people in the shadows that surrounded you. You hadn’t noticed them closing in around you from all sides.
Looking around frantically, Dan’s grip on you tightened.
As some of the strangers lurched closer to you, you began to notice details that made your stomach turn with dread. Gnashing teeth, twitching limbs, bloody wounds, vacant eyes, a collective malice among the crowd.
You were just passing a store with a golfing display in its window. Without breaking his stride, Dan released your hand just long enough to slam his huge fist through the window.
Ignoring the glass embedded in his fist, Dan reached in to retrieve two nine-irons.
His voice was steady and his eyes met yours unblinking when he passed one to you.
“You stay behind me unless something happens to me. Then, you just fucking run.”
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Werewolf Sackler for MarieSackler
Sackler was practically bouncing off the walls all month as he eagerly awaited spending Halloween with you. Not only was it the first year the two of you would spend the holiday together, it was a full moon. On Halloween.
You had no idea how special that was to a werewolf, but Sackler was going to show you.
It wasn’t like the movies. He didn’t turn into some furry raging beast. Or, rather, he could control whether or not he turned into more of an animal than usual was how he explained it to you.
He had rented a cabin in the woods for you to spend the weekend in.
Upon your arrival, Sackler tossed your weekend bag and his backpack onto the couch. Looking out of the window, the full moon was just rising over the mountains that surrounded you.
Grabbing your hand, he all but ran excitedly outside with you, pulling you along behind him. Leading you into the forest, he turned his face up toward the full moon. When he returned his gaze to yours, his eyes were tinged with vibrant yellow and his toothy smile was a little sharper than usual.
You were almost jolted out of your skin when a chilling howl resounded through the woods. Sackler jumped too, gripping your hand even tighter.
A loud crash too near ahead of you sent you both running back toward the cabin. Sackler dragged you ahead, running with you and pulling you over logs and through brush.
You could hear something chasing you, crashing behind you, snarling as it pursued you.
Suddenly, almost as an afterthought, Sackler slid to a stop beside you. “What the fuck am I thinking?” He laughed.
Turning to face the oncoming animal, Sackler squared his shoulders, bared his teeth and let out the deepest resounding growl you had ever heard. It rattled through to your bones.
The coyote that was running toward you skidded to a stop with a helpless yelp and bounced away into the forest. It was no doubt hungry and used to residents of the cabin feeding it.
Sackler looked at you and you both started laughing uncontrollably at the absurdity of a werewolf running from a coyote.
At least you knew for sure that you were in no danger of being mauled by Sackler the savage beast during the full moon. At least, not in a bad way...
Once you were back in the safety of your cabin, Sackler held you close against his chest. He lit a fire and wrapped his arms around you from behind as you both warmed yourselves in front of it.
“Well, that wasn’t exactly the surprise I had in mind,” he laughed as he stepped away from you to retrieve his backpack.
It wasn’t until he pulled the rope from his backpack and leveled you with the most wolfish grin that you had ever seen that you really started to shiver. Although, this time it was hardly from cold.
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Altman for Historyandfandoms50
Only fucking Altman would have done this to you. Invite you to a nice Halloween party and encourage you to dress up in your sluttiest playboy bunny costume. And then take you to a fucking graveyard.
The little shit with his little shit eating grin, holding your door open as you stepped out of his black Porsche at the cemetery gates.
“Are you fucking kidding me?” You glared up at him.
“Don’t worry. There really is a party. This was just on the way,” He smirked at you. “Besides, I love watching your tits bounce when you jump.”
Following you into the graveyard, as you walked unsteadily on your heels, Altman pinched or smacked your ass with every other step.
“That’s going to get old really fast, Altman,” you warn as you smack his hand away.
“Ok, ok, bunny,” He teased, “Don’t get your tail in a bunch over it.”
After a few more steps, he slapped your ass hard. Too hard.
Spinning viciously to face him, you stopped dead in your tracks. Altman stood several feet away, looking at you with an amused expression.
“You alright over there?” He laughed.
“It’s not funny anymore,” you told him flatly.
A few more steps into the graveyard and you heard a thump. Jumping nearly out of your heels, you turned just in time to see Altman flinch from an unseen blow.
“What the fuck?” He snarled, turning in a tight circle, looking around for enemies that didn’t exist.
A loud clang echoed through the graveyard. You both turned around just in time to see the gates still swaying from the force with which they were just slammed closed.
Rushing to you, Altman took your hand. His features were no longer amused, they were stricken with fear.
Just as he pulled you to make your dash for the gates, you felt an icy grip on your ankle from a pale hand that had just begun to rise up through the ground.
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Toby for Ohdamnadam
You could hardly believe this was happening. You couldn’t actually be sitting on a movie set in Prague waiting for your fiancé to wrap shooting for the day so he could spring the ‘surprise’ he’d been going on about for hours.
As the sun was setting over the picturesque Charles Bridge, Toby approached you from behind. His huge hands began kneading knots you didn’t know you had from your shoulders. Leaning your head back against his thick chest, you smiled up at him.
“I’m so happy to have you here with me, my love,” Toby purred as he leaned down to kiss you.
“When are you going to tell me what you have up your sleeve?” You asked, beaming at him.
“I’m not going to tell you at all,” he gave your shoulders a good squeeze. “I’m going to show you.”
Toby had the next two days off from filming. Two days for you to indulge in each other. He was always wound so tightly during filming, you were looking forward to the opportunity to help him relax with you.
The drive to the countryside passed quickly in the town car Toby had hired. It certainly didn’t hurt that his lips scarcely left yours during your travel.
Your car finally pulled to a stop in front of a palatial estate. In Europe, they would call it a manor, but in all other corners of the globe they would call it a castle. There was just enough left of the fading daylight for you to appreciate its luxury.
“Turns out there are some perks to being a hot shot director,” Toby joked, waggling his eyebrows at you.
Taking your hand, Toby all but dragged you out of the car and into the cavernous estate.
The two of you wandered hand in hand through the manor, pausing only for Toby to spin you playfully or pull you into a kiss.
You wanted to be excited. You wanted to be ecstatic. You really did. But, slowly, you began to feel something. Despite your beautiful surroundings and Toby’s dashing presence, you grew more and more unsettled.
Something felt off to you.
“What is it, my love?” Toby asked you when he felt your lips being less and less responsive with every kiss he stole from you.
The last thing you wanted to do was cast a shadow over his gesture. You assured him it was nothing. Certainly, you’d feel better once Toby was taking care of you properly.
Toby had planned a lavish dinner. The two of you seated together at a dining room table that was far too large and sprawling. The room was even complete with a roaring fireplace, which, paired with a few candles, provided the perfect lighting.
Your feeling of unease grew progressively stronger and stronger. Even the food soon turned to ash on your tongue. You almost felt as though you were being stalked. Hunted. As though you were now sitting on display, just as your main course sat in the center of the table. A delicacy ripe for serving to a ravenous predator.
Toby had also begun to look over his shoulder, staring into the shadows at nothing. His hand gripping your thigh a little too tightly for affection. He felt it too.
The feeling finally became too overwhelming. You felt as though you were surrounded on all sides by something unseen, but ominous and oppressive.
“I want to go home, Toby,” you whispered to him, taking his hand.
“You are home,” the soft spectral voice reverberated off the marble walls, coming from nowhere and everywhere all at once. Echoing throughout the room just as terror echoed through your heart.
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