&. 36 // @macabremortem
❝ I’m starving … ❞
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&. 36 // @macabremortem
❝ I’m starving … ❞
macabremortem replied to your post: macabremortem replied to your post: macabremortem:...
ESPECIALLY HIS WIFE LIKE OKAY ERNEST HEMINGWAY
jimmy, clinging to those good ol 1920s ideal of being a man: this is f in e
macabremortem
“ you can call me shelley. it’s easy to remember because mary shelley wrote frankenstein and i, myself . . . appear a bit like frankenstein's monster. ” where’s the fun in looking as she does if you can’t make a few jokes.
random for . MACABREMORTEM . ( @macabremortem )
Firm steps took place. A towering shape dressed in black, his boots leaving tracks as he walked into the HOTEL. The rain hadn’t stop. It was DEVIL’S NIGHT, after all --- & the midst of rain season in L.A. The dead man made his way into the CORTEZ, the black bird flying in after him. Taking a dive over his shoulder and heading upward, resting near the ceiling, watching the former musician from above.
In a whisper to himself, Eric spoke. “--- Seven black birds in a tree, count them and see what they be.” wet, thick soles came into contact with the HOTEL’s carpeted floor. “One for sorrow, two for joy.” at every step, Tin-Tin’s coat swung around his shape. “Three for a girl, four for a boy.” Fun-boy was to be found in some crevice. “Five for silver, six for gold.” the junkie, he would meet his maker tonight. “Seven for a secret that’s never been told.”
⊰ HEY, ERIC. RING THE BELL. ⊱ The feathery creature cawed from feet away.
Eyes scanned the lobby only to find not a soul in sight. Decisive stature approached the front desk, and the man’s electrical-taped hand tapped rhythmically at the miniature bell of silver. Finally murdering the silence. There was a man who resided there. In the depths of the CORTEZ. Someone he’d been searching for. Unfinished business to be dealt with. A blur of memories past came ---- his former self had been here once. Funny to think the HOTEL still stood, and Eric, quite untimely, could no longer take a breath. “They’re all going to die.”
❝ THE BOY WAILS I speculate for a father he does not know. ❞ // @macabremortem
@macabremortem
For the fourth time Tate rolled the small rubber ball into the darkness of the basement & for the fourth time it didn’t return. Crouched down in the cold shadows of the house’s tragic memories, the teenage ghost sensed a familiar presence. “He’s been pretty quiet lately.” He said to her, Nora Montgomery, the lady of the house. A coy smile danced upon his face. “--- I think he misses you.” The boy stood to full height, his sights set on the hidden corner. Waiting for Thaddeus to peek out.
✞ @macabremortem!
Ivy had seen the woman behind the bar on numerous occasions, and had always been far too shy to approach her. Perhaps she had ordered a drink or two before, but she had always kept the interactions short and quiet, quickly disappearing after she had finished drinking. The grace and beauty of the woman intimidated her.
Tonight, though, she felt bold and brave and perhaps slightly buzzed.
❛ You’re so --- I’m sorry, you’re so pretty! And your nails are so perfect. Where --- if you don’t mind --- where do you get them done? ❜
“If someone had warned me I would end up here… I would still have chosen you. I’ll always choose you.” (ALMA to her loving husband)
How sorry he is that the woman he loves is trapped in a place as horrid and unforgiving as Briarcliff wereit up to him, never, not even after allshe has does, would Alma ever knowa place so devoid of compassion orlight. Because it is not her fault, not inKit’s eyes. It is all his.
❝ I’m so sorry, Alma. You’re gonna beokay, I promise, You’re not you ain’talone here, I promise. I’m gonna be right here, every week, every other dayif I can. I’m gonna do everythin’ I can ‘tamake sure nothin’ happens ‘ta ‘ya. ❞