#deadmenstown

[crxwfish-a]

@deadmenstown

“I don’t think I can go out tonight... I’m not feeling well.”

[ofvalves]

@deadmenstown liked for a starter

Val kicked the gas can so that the liquid sluiced across the floor in a moment. It flicked the lighter open and the flame danced dangerously. The creature grinned with madness.

[rottingdown]

@deadmenstown

“Close the circle.” He’s been getting worse every time he’s called. More jittery, less lucid. “You need to-- ‘m not supposed to be here, Gravedigger. Ain’t natural--”

[thundersflower]

@deadmenstown

The conversation has gone entirely like every single one they’ve ever had. Petty sniping, Heather turning to leave in a huff with a “Fuck off” thrown over her shoulder for good measure.

And then, as she’s walking away, her little hitchhiker decides to act up. Pain drives the air from her lungs in a whoosh, and she crumples forward, clutching her middle. It passes quick, at least. Nothing broken, this time. Gonna leave a hell of a bruise, though.

[fatherfailed]

@deadmenstown

“You did this.” Locane is screaming. He hasn’t slept in days. His eyes are bloodshot red, his voice like sandpaper. He never comes by the church-- tries to avoid it if he can. But here he is, enraged and grieving and in desperate need of someone, anyone to blame. Just what Archbolt needs.

“Your-- your fucked up little cult, you took my children!”

[ghostlybartender]

Well ain’t that a kick in the balls if it isn’t Mr. A fancy seeing you here... again. 

[theotherarchbolt]

“‘Mother’s little angel.’ Right.”

[crxwfish-a]

@deadmenstown

The fact that Ford didn’t take a tumble head first down the stairs was nothing short of a miracle as he’d managed to catch himself on the handrail. The world blacked out around him, his feet slipped out from under him, and it was barely a second between Ford’s descent and catching himself. He’d been running a fever all night, and had refused to slow down, despite his exhaustion. Now, he was paying for it.