as promised (back in May, I know), I gift to you this campy funny serial killer III and stalker IV snippet. Enjoy!!
CW/TW: death. character death. III and IV literally kill someone. dead dove do not eat. they're also kind of horny about it.
word count: 1353
“You don't think it's wrong?” IV’s voice rang out pitchy and unsure.
“Naw, I mean what are you really doing that's all bad? They don't even know you're looking, man. If they really wanted privacy, they'd close their curtains,”
“I think it's called stalking, but, I want to look,”
“Just look?” III inquired. His eyes lit with a very concerning look. His mouth twisted into a disturbing smirk. “What would you do, if you had them in your hands, IV?”
“In my hands?” his face scrunched up, thinking of all the things he’d do if he actually had the object of his desire within his grasp. III handed him something. It’s a mask that would cover his whole face, black with a gold muzzle. III grinned, showing IV the mask’s equal opposite. IV was terribly confused. He was still thinking of all the things he’d do once he had them in his hands, shifting uncomfortably when he started to get hard.
“It’s October. Let’s see if they’re going to a Halloween party tonight,” III’s eyes were lit up still, twisted in delight and turning white blue.
“You mean? Together?” III was a demon, the Butcher, that thing that the news cycle couldn’t get enough of. IV was a common stalker. “I don’t… I’m not-”
“Shhh, IV. I’ll show you everything,” III was terribly excited now, and would likely be taking IV’s target out with or without him. IV began to nod, assenting to this strange twist of his Saturday night. “We can even bring them back here, if you want. String them up, cut the major arteries so that they’re coated in their own blood,” IV inhaled sharply at the image that III was painting. III was playing around on his phone while IV willed his dick to go down. “Yep, look. Party tonight. They even posted the address, what a moron,” III laughed. “Easy kill,”
III was wrong, but it was even more fun that way.
The house was huge, filled with drunken mummies and high ghosts. They fit right in with their masks on.
“Woah, dude, cool Butcher costume! He’s a freak. And who’s he?” some guy in a Ghostface mask asked, gesturing at IV.
“My Shadow,” III replied before IV could say anything.
“Ooo, right on, freaky dudes!” no one even paused to think that this was the actual Butcher in front of them. In fact, most people were heaping praise onto them both about the costumes and their creativity.
“What if the real Butcher decides to get you? For stealing his look?” someone asked III. III had easily integrated them into a giant group of people, including IV’s target in a half assed ghost costume, with holes cut in a top sheet. III cackled.
“I’d like to see him try,” was his snappy response to the..duckling, maybe? Mostly yellow fishnets and a feathered tail. IV wanted the ghost on their knees before him. He was sort of drilling holes in the side of their head. III slapped his thigh, snapping him out of it. “Dude, you could like. Chill the fuck out on the stalker staring,” III sort of whispered through gritted teeth.
“Sorry,” IV mumbled. The party progressed. The ghost stood up and walked out onto the back porch.
“Go. Now,” III commanded IV. They both got up, and followed the ghost, who was puking over the balcony.
“Oh, shit man. You okay?” IV immediately asked, unthinking. The ghost was unable to answer, because they were in the middle of vomiting their guts up. Once they stopped, IV tried again. “Yo, ghostie, you good?”
“I’m a,” hiccup, “fuckin’ poltergeist, you ass,” the ghost, well, poltergeist, retorted.
“Okay, ghostboy, seems like you’ve had too much to drink. Can we call anyone for you, take you anywhere?” III interjected.
“H-home,” III’s eyes widened in delight. He was very intentionally misinterpreting what they had requested.
“Home. You got it,” and III hoisted them up over his shoulder. They all made their way through the party, and not one person even tried to stop them while they carried their mark out of the house. Getting the ghost into the car was easy, but once III started driving in what was the wrong direction from the ghost’s perspective, they started freaking out. IV was in the back with them. He quickly used a seat belt to restrain their hands.
“Alright, alright. Calm down,” IV told them as he bound them. They just started kicking instead, so he wrenched their legs across his lap and he used another seat belt to restrain them. Thankfully, III had a huge vintage American car with a giant bench in the back. “If you’re good, I’ll untie you. But you’re not being good, so I’m not going to untie you,”
“You’re a quick study, IV,” III laughed. This was going to be so fun, especially since IV seemed so well suited to the games III liked to play. III looked at him from the rearview for a moment, taking in that wide, stocky build of his shoulders. Oh, I wonder if he'd fuck me in front of our victim…
The way III was looking at IV had him thinking he might do more than just kill someone tonight.
III whipped the vehicle into his driveway. Lucky he'd cleaned out his basement the other day. Fresh tools, clean table, new rope. And now a new partner. And fresh meat.
“Shall we string him up? Skin him? Make him scream?” IV had ideas about what to do with the writhing poltergeist in his hands. He gripped him firmly, likely bruising his biceps. “Let's get him into your basement, I want to dye his pretty blue hair with his blood,” IV was in it now, and he was battling a raging hardon thinking about killing his little victim with III.
III was ecstatic, helping IV wrangle the squirming man down into his basement. He got ropes on him as the poltergeist screamed. He thrashed and bit at IV, and III loved the teeth marks he left on him. “You look so cute with those teeth marks in your arms,” III purred. He tested the knots binding the poltergeist, and then strung him up. III pulled his favorite knife out of his belt. The poltergeist screamed again on seeing it. IV snatched it out of his hand and lunged. He got right in the poltergeist’s face, pressing the knife hard against his throat. Blood bloomed on the knife’s edge. The screaming stopped.
“Oh fuck, that's good,” IV groaned. III stalked up behind him and pressed against IV so that IV could feel III's entire body. Including his boner.
“I can make it even better,” he whispered into IV’s ear. IV arched that spectacular ass back into III as he dragged the knife through the poltergeist's clothing. The knife was sharp enough that a thin red line bloomed on his skin as IV sliced through the clothing. His ghost sheet was long gone. III wrapped his hand around IV's and began to use it to torture the poltergeist. He sliced ribbons into the young man's arms and torso.
“Are you going to kill me?” the poltergeist was nearly strangled by fear, but he had the balls to ask.
“Yes, of course, love. That’s what makes it fun,” IV purred. III’s eyes lit at that, and his dick shot straight up so fast he thought he’d break his pants about it. III couldn’t help it, he stabbed right into the poltergeist’s abdomen. Blood came out of his mouth then. IV stuck his fingers in his mouth, painting his lips with his blood.
“Aww, you gave him lipstick,” III grinned. IV returned the look, and III tugged the knife out of his gut. “I’m gonna slit his throat,”
“Let me,” IV grabbed the knife from III and pressed it to the poltergeist’s throat. His blue hair shined under the cold light of the basement. The knife cut through his neck easily, blood pouring out and down his body. As the light stuttered out in the poltergeist’s eyes, III and IV gazed at one another.
so this was totally intended for a little C4nn1b4l!IV au ive been working on but also kinda for @ghostlygothicgay's St4lk3r!IV au (even though i haven't got around to reading that yet because boohoo im a sensitive mf with moral OCD 😞🎻) because the lyrics are a lot more fitting to his au than my au LOL
but uh yeah anyways. sorry abt my horrid handwriting and inconsistant medium usage here traditional is hard (im literally a traditional artist)
