I wanna be sitting on Toby's lap doing his corpse makeup so we can match </3. It's such a humiliation ritual to walk around in corpse makeup in a small town of kid vapers and religious freak elders.
Toby would beg you to do his corpse paint, he loves matching with you. And I get it I'm scene and I live in a small southern town and I get middle aged women and teenagers laughing at me like bitch I see you 😭😭
tw: perversion, light necrophilia, amputation, descriptions of corpse desecration, violence, gore, murder, and death
He started out as a murmur in crowds of blurry unrecognizable, pointless faces. The story had a pattern, a string of bad luck, disappearing children or those of unsound mind, more often than not disappearing into the depth and nothingness of the woods left stranded and abandoned in the darkness with only the shell of their former selves, dead or alive, remaining.
No one knows when it first started, there were no records of him and his time until the 1930’s when children began to tell stories of his existence. Like most families they believed he was nothing but a character made to play pretend.
Then the illnesses started. The disappearances. The ringing of the mind. The feeling of being watched. All of it came from the woods.
With constant similarities always striking into light through each investigation of mangled corpses and disappearances of his victims it's no wonder that journalists and reporters made sure to bring his presence to light yet they never had a name for him that stuck.
‘Man of the Woods’
‘The Hunter of the Lost’
‘The Pale Butcher’
He garnered a fuckfest amount of names yet one thing stayed true. Survivors and witnesses to his brutality always reported the same thing to describe him, ‘An inhumane being pretending to be a man dressed in a black and white suit standing as tall as the trees around him. Stares at you with a pale head that bares no face’, others reported of his unnatural body length and size, mentioning the abnormal stretch of his arms and fingers that does not seem to fit well with him and his stature.
Some described the lankyness of the way he walks, his body hunched over when chasing behind you, his legs staggered almost dragging behind him as you hear nothing more than his feet rumbling across the soil and the drilling of what could be his voice or immortal power funneling into your head like siren desperate to be heard before you do something drastic to keep your mind quiet.
No one ever caught him then, some say it was due to the lack of resources and the fact that his appearances were scattered across the country. Who could blame them? How can you capture a man who moves across the country in the middle of the night?
However, one thing was clear. No one knew how to catch something like him. He was an alien, a myth, and a ‘story’ made up by the deranged or survivors of his schemes.
Decades passed and even though his stories have become folklore, science still couldn’t explain the oddities and holes in each investigation in the stories of survivors.
Forensics, Interviews, Scientific Investigations, Theories- in the end they threw the sufferers of the trauma under the category of mental illness and called it a day. Then it was left at that. The world turned and the memories of terror that loomed over the lives of those that lived from him died with them.
Somewhere in the 1990’s to 2000’s, images of his presence popped up in a forum, most were of blurred photographs and candid snapshots of the creature. Stories from the past resurfaced like memories being reminisced. Now his life has a reboot in the digital world and it is creative and vast.
Despite his existence having a comeback, he was still treated as a myth and a legend. Something families used to scare kids to ward themselves away from being in the woods for too long.
Only a few of them would work though.
══════════════════════
I smell like absolute horseshit.
Why did that fucking cunt have to own a damn farm anyway? Why did I have to bear the responsibility of having to slice and dice this bitch anyway? Boss knows I prefer my girls a little more urban, why do you think I love the Gotham style alleyways so much? I use it to my advantage, duh.
Toby was having his fucking tickity-tack-ticks a little more than usual which obviously tells me (because I have more braincells) that he didn’t have a good time in Boss’s office. Honestly, getting sent there in the first place means you didn’t do a good job in the first place. Masky would know since he’s a fucking screw up majority of the time, but don’t tell him I said that because he’d actually beat my ass so hard I’d wish to be in Zalgo’s harem instead.
I wipe the blood off my knife on my white hoodie, the blood staining it in messy red smears because I love it. What I don’t love is that Betty the fucking cow took an aggregious amount of shit on the ground our nice broad kicked me into. For fuck sake– I might as well gut this damn heifer for ruining my hoodie. I washed this two fucking days ago!
“Toby, you're lagging more than usual. The fuck is up with you?”
Toby wiped his face and the soil from his arm spread across his forehead, “Bo-Boss…”
Always vague when I fucking ask. I’m trying to be nice here dipshit.
“What did he make you suck his dick under the table or some shit?” I check the broad’s pockets for loose change but all my hands feel is a pocket of disappointment. Her valuables are probably back in that farmhouse.
“He wouldn’t ca-call me for- for that when your mou-mouth is bigger.” Cheeky shit.
Toby pulls out a ziplock bag and I start ripping this chick’s shirt- woah nice tits. I hear a “You’re fucking-fucking sick.” I rolled my eyes, “Can we flip this bitch over already?” I placed my right hand under her shoulder and the other on her ass. Toby placed her hands crossed over her tits and then we flipped the broad over flat on her chest.
Behind me I can hear Betty’s breath hanging over my head. She smelled like unwiped ass and the moistness of her breath against my neck– Ugh. I shivered in disgust, I fucking hate farms.
Some parts of this broad’s shirt still covered her back so I lifted it up just enough to where Jack told me to cut. I traced over the girl’s scapula, then down a little more below her ribcage. I feel the muscles on the sides of her body and just like how Jack taught me, wherever my thumb was sitting was where the gold is probably hidden.
I make the incision in a slight, diagonal angle. Blood began to seep through the cut, then it pools down the sides of her body and into the soil. I make another incision parallel to the diagonal cut to form a ‘T’ shape and peel the layers of skin and muscles like a banana obviously with a bit more struggle because a human isn’t one but you get the picture.
“So what happened with that meeting you had with Boss anyway? You got your phone back and shanked the bitch.”
Toby tickity tics again, his shoulders and neck jerking uncontrollably, “Apparently-” His shoulder juts, “I nearly compromised myself-myself when I was looking for the pho-phone in the crime sce-scene.” I dug my hands into the cut and more or less fingered the thing until I felt something similar to a kidney against my fingers. Bingo. I took my knife and dug into the cavity until I felt small tube-like things connected to the kidneys, then I gave them a good ol’ cut.
“You did go out in broad daylight. That’s like going to a bank naked and holding them at gunpoint.”
Toby huffed and groaned, probably heard the same type of shit from his meeting with Boss. “Then-Then he did his tor-torture thing.”
I winced at the thought, “Yikes. Sounds like shit. What did he do this time?” Slender was our boss for a reason, if he wants us to learn, he’d make us learn. After I saw what he did to BEN while he was in the cartridge, I knew my ass wouldn’t survive that shit even if I wanted to. The perks of torture for Toby though is that he can’t feel shit the sad part about it is that Slender doesn’t need to be physical with you to hurt you.
I take the kidney out and if the smell of blood and shit wasn’t already strong enough, well brother you are only scratching the surface because damn did I smell iron everywhere. You could make a minecart with how much iron was stinking up the damn place.
My pale hands dropped the first kidney in the ziplock bag Toby had opened for me and I hopped on to the other side of the chick’s body to harvest the other kidney. Blood smears across her back in shades of various red while I measure and find the area I should cut before I make the incision and do the thing again.
“He made me see-see what is happening with my-my mom– threatening her life and all that shi-shit.” Toby stammered out, he had that look on his face that told me that those threats were hitting a big homerun to the shits.
“Huh.. All this for a phone and an already dead broad? Man’s weird.” I yanked out the kidney and dropped it in the open ziplock bag. Toby zips it up and wipes the blood dripping from the lip of the bag on his pants before getting up with a grunt.
“There-there was more to-to it than that.” I brought the blade of the knife and ran my tongue around the flat edge, a soothing metallic trail of blood spilling into my mouth. I tilt the knife that the sharp edge of the blade is directed towards my face and I glide my tongue close to the edge that I nick my tongue. I always loved this damn part. I’m getting hard already.
Toby grunts, obviously disgusted, “Don’t-Don’t you fucking touch-touch yourself. We’re still-still not done.” The grass rustled as he makes a headstart, “Fucking freak…”
I cackled out, “I heard that!”
══════════════════════
The neighborhood was shrouded in a cloud of darkness and the streetlights that should be illuminating my path should be turned on and making this nightmare looking street not look so much like a nightmare and more like a friendlier looking environment where you can walk your dog and your house cats… I miss Roots so much.
It still breaks my mind how me coming here happened because of a lost phone. Tobias Rogers apparently was alive the entire time for the last how many years and now became a psychopathic maniac that’s murdering everyone from high school (at least that’s my theory) and then he tied me up in my own home then played with my apathetic dog and then stabbed me in the chest then I guess I had a coma and sort of recovered something life threatening in the span of just roughly close to a week and then I was announced as missing and now Rivka my only friend is also now announced as missing.
All of that horseshit happening from Tobias losing his fuckass phone!
The sound of my radio was reduced to a low hum as I indicated to the culdesac where I used to live. This was so weird, I don’t get why all the neighbours and neighbours houses refuse to have a light on at night, it’s really good to have one to fend off any raccoons or animals that would go through the trash bins in the backyard.
I swerve into the empty space of my old home’s driving lane that leads to the garage then shut the car off. The trashy pop song playing died as quickly as the car’s engine rumbled down and now I am engulfed in the neighborhood's eerie, terrifying silence, save for the cool winds, the chirping of cicadas and the howling of the owl who my dad affectionately named, Jerry.
I’m reminded on why I moved out. The streets are impossibly empty, it makes you wonder whether you entered a ghost town or a place actively lived in by people with families and children with dreams about the future and the elderly who lived an era so comparable to yours that they can bestow the wisest of knowledge upon you or the hardest lore about the life they lived. I hope I reach that point in my life where I can tell them my wacky life story of nearly dying but not.
I peek over the wheel and more or less stretched my neck to see whether there were any lights in the house but all I saw was more darkness. I grab my sweater from the passenger seat and throw it on before pushing the door open and heading out of my car. The cold was so harsh that it bit my skin with temptations of frostbite. I really need to get inside. My legs dragged themselves across the pavement and on to my dad’s wooden front porch, I could feel that one slot of wood underneath my feet that wasn’t securely fastened. Dad said he’d fix that, some years in college later the plan still remained a plan.
Speaking of dad, I should call him and tell him about this whole mess.
I fumbled around for my phone and called my dad while at the same time knocking on the front door. Gotta confuse him I guess. Should he take my call or answer the door? I need to explain everything that happened for the last five days , like I died but I kinda didn’t? And my killer was some dude from my high school who burned his house down and who was thought to be dead. I also need to ask what happened to Rivka, like how the hell and when the hell did she go missing? Is she okay? Where was she? Who took her? Is she still alive?
The number you have dialed is not available. Please try again later.
Wow, fantastic! I dial his number again and pounded my free hand on his front door again.
“Dad? I’m outside, please answer the door!” I called out into the darkness of our house and like before there was no response. This is just like a horror movie and like a stupid protagonist, I’m going to barge inside like a psycho in hunt of my probably dead dad who I truly hope isn’t dead in this scenario. I crouched down on the ground, lifted the mat for the spare key dad usually taped under the mat but I guess he removed it since I’m not living with him anymore…
The number you have dialed is not available. Please try again later.
My chest began to drum and my brain was racking up terrifying scenarios of what the hell is happening to my dad. What if he died in his sleep? What if he’s being suffocated in his sleep right now? What if he’s actually not here? Now that is one normal thought but he’s not answering the phone when he usually answers the phone– Oh my fuck, what if Tobias Rogers is killing everyone from highschool and their families too?
I dial his number again and trotted over to the side of the house and checked the windows if there was even anyone inside. “Dad?! I’m– I’m here!” I yelled out again and there was nothing. No shuffling, no padding of his heavy footsteps, nothing.
The number you have dialed is not available. Please try again later.
My stomach drops again. This can’t be happening. I hobbled over to one of the windows to the kitchen and forced my fingers underneath a slot and with all my might pushed it open. I climbed over the window and forced myself inside. I face planted on the floor and even though I’m sure I broke my nose, I didn’t let that stop me from pulling my legs that hung outside the window inside the house.
My body thumps on to the ground and my nose begins to burn with ache. My eyes watered slightly and I wiped my eyes with the sleeves of my hoodie as I looked around the kitchen. It was the same as how I left it, the kitchen island that was the size of my study table settled in the middle of the kitchen, the fridge still has the same recipes stuck on it by the magnets we collected traveling interstate over the years and some from outside the country when we have more than enough money saved up.
I pushed myself up from the ground and looked around some more. In the corner next to the fridge was a small shelf with recipe books he bought from our last trip in Japan and scattered across the table was some unopened mail, a lot of it actually and it seemed to pile up.
“Dad?” I headed over to the garage to check whether his car was parked inside and it was. So he’s home. Where the fuck is he? I call out for him again as I beelined back to the kitchen to fetch a knife for self defense in case someone that isn’t my dad is here.
I hold the blade with both hands like a gun ready to be drawn at any moment as I glanced around for my dad or any source of light I didn’t see while looking around the house when I was outside. My hands were shaking erratically from anxiety. I need to keep them still, I need to calm down…
I took my shoes off so the sounds of my feet were muffled by the carpet that lined down the hallway. My feet carefully and as quietly as possible creep around the house. I peek in the corner and I see a faint shadow coming from dad’s bedroom on the wall adjacent to his room. The carpet thumped under each cautious step to my dad’s room, “Dad?”
I hear nothing and the sound of my racing heart is pumping in my ears. Is there a thief in the house?
Adrenaline pumped my body and controlling my breathing suddenly became the hardest thing to do. The hall to dad’s room seemed to bridge further and further and further away from me and my head is ringing with this weight that something terrible is actually happening to my dad, not the kind of ‘what if this happened’ kind of weight but the certainty that he is in the position where he can’t speak up and do anything to save himself from whatever is destroying him.
“Da–!” A pale, wet and clammy hand masked itself over my mouth and nose and slammed me into their smelly body. My body freezes and like a dumbass I drop the knife on the ground leaving me defenseless. Fuck! My hands claw against their arm, their pale skin, anything to fuck with this putrid smelling assailant but he is relentless.
“Mmph!-” My struggle and whimpering noises die at the sound of his heavy, bated breath that crosses between a chuckle and a sort of huff of air, “Would ya’ look at that. Daddy has a pretty little girl waitin’ for him huh?” My heart dropped. What the fuck did that mean? No, No, No! In a fury of all the adrenaline left in me I open my mouth and bite hard against his disgusting sweaty fingers and he cries out, letting go temporarily and I run to make my escape into dad’s bedroom.
“Fuckin- bitch!”
“Dad?! Dad?!-” I screamed, I need to scream and get someone's attention that way if I actually die this time, someone knows about it and that I– at least I hope my life will be brought to justice both me and my dad.
Footsteps raced behind me and they were fast– frighteningly fast that it scares me in a way that I have never felt before except when I ran into Tobias days ago. My feet dragged themselves behind me and I nearly tripped over myself if I didn’t catch my footing the millisecond I nearly toppled over.
“Playing hard to get, princess?” I didn’t look back. Plus even if I did, I know he wouldn’t be my type.
I beelined to my dad’s bedroom and slammed the door shut, flipping the lock to close and suddenly a loud crash echoed from behind the door. My knees were weak when I saw the door nearly fly off its hinges when that attacker’s body slammed against the door.
“Oh my god. Oh my God. Oh my–” I could hear the wood splinter and break apart the more this person is trying to break the door down. Fuck, I need to think fast, I need to– I need to block the door. Yeah, I need to block the door.
CRASH!
Now! I need to– I look to my right and of course! Dad’s dresser! I ran to it immediately and latching both my hands on the very right side of it pulled it to block the door. The friction was rough against my fingers and my hands and muscles began to pound with ache as I grit my teeth and bring this dresser to the door.
“C’mon move!” I groaned as the dresser topples over on its side and blocks the door with a loud deafening crash. My lungs were on fire as I tried to catch my breath, that should stop him for ample time.
CRASH!
Fuck fuck fuck.
I look around the room some more, trying to find something to further block this door down from this fucking maniac and at the corner of my eye I see movement. My heart pangs and I turn to face it only to be met with the monster who started it all. The monster who tied me up, the monster who took a knife and stabbed me in the chest where a scar leaves a memory of what the fuck he did to me.
“You…” I could feel all the blood in my body drain away from me and my body goes slack.
He stares back at me behind those orange tinted goggles, in that striped mask and striped hoodie with those tufts of brown hair peeking out. His hand held like a small axe? A hatchet? I don’t know, but now isn’t the time to figure out what the hell he has as his weapon of choice when he is coming towards me ready to kill me again!
His hand that held a hatchet swings overhead and I step back shakily with my arms covering my head as if it will protect me from the blow of his fucking weapon, “TOBIAS, NO- PLEASE DON’T!” I cried.
My eyes were wet and stinging from tears and I wanted to cry again, “I thought I-I killed you-you.” My breath heaves shaky relief from this, I guess the idea that he’s taking his time to interrogate the prey before the slaughter fills me with hope.
“Toby, if you take my kill I will-” The door crashes and splinters of wood begin to fly into the room, “-kill you!”
My body flinches with every slam against the door and Tobias swings his arms again, ensuring I die. A shrill scream escapes me as I dove down into the ground and rolled over to dodge the attack.
“NO! N-not my daughter please don’t do this!” My head cranes to my dad who I didn’t realize was tied and strapped into his work chair with Tobias’ fucking leather belt and duct tape. He planned to kill my dad. I groaned as I pushed myself off of the ground and before I knew it Tobias was taking a heavy step to me again, arms raised with the blade of his hatchet catching the light and–
CRASH!
“Toby I said, she’s mine!” In the gap of the door a face emerges and I see long thick, disheveled black hair, dark bloodshot eyes targeted at me and a mouth that stretches uncannily to his ears. If I looked deeper, I would catch that the ends of his mouth were traced with jagged edges that healed from the scars of a blade. His eyes. They are terrifying. It didn’t hold restraint, they traced the shape of my body and I hate that I caught how he licked his lips as if the idea of killing me, thrilled him.
I hear the woosh of a blade overhead and I stumble back instantly. My dad cries out, “No! No! You can have everything, just don’t take my daughter plea-please don’t!” His voice was guttural and desperate. I have never heard my dad this way before and in that moment it hit me that when I went missing for a while he must have been just as desperate to find me.
My heart hurts and before I could have a moment to weep, I realized that this moment isn’t the right time.
“You..” Tobias pointed the mini axe–hatchet towards me and I whimpered at the closeness of the blade, “How-How the hell are you a-alive?” I push myself further away from the point of the blade and I feel my head hit my dad’s legs, “I-I saw you die. I know-know you died.”
I have no fucking answer for that, I shake my head, “I-I DON’T KNOW OKAY? I-I DON-”
“WHATE IS HE TALKING ABOUT (NAME)?” My dad panics and I feel the rumble of his anxiety and frustration and his fear run through my body, “He–”
Toby squats down and I tense immediately, lifting my arms above my head like I’m surrendering myself. He doesn’t say anything, rather he guides his hatchet down my chest and uses it to lift the hem of my shirt, slow, and steady as if taking into consideration that the steel would cut me open. I was too scared to even breathe and I just endured it while begging to any God above to make this night mare burn over.
I shut my eyes tight and I feel my shirt expose my belly and slowly up my breasts then to my chin. I hated how sensual it felt and I could only whimper as he let the edge of the blade of his hatchet continue to hold the shirt up to my chin as he studied my body like a psychopathic pervert.
I breathe shakily and peeked through my lashes to see what he’s doing but all I see is the way he tilted his head as he looked to the center of my chest, the scar. Behind me I could hear my dad cursing him out, shouting profanities I never heard him say before and telling him to stop or he will kill Tobias, but his words fell on deaf ears.
“That healed too fast.” He commented and my shirt dropped down. The cool air that met my body shifts back to the damp wetness of my shirt. He didn’t know that would happen either. What did that mean? Was I Wade Wilson or some shit? Could I heal from disasters like this? I don’t know but the moment Toby leaned back, I grabbed the hatchet and in a fit of all fury and rage that he put me and my family through, I raised my arms to attack him.
I don’t care if I am called a murderer just as long as he’s fucking dead.
I swing my arms downwards and Tobias dodges my attack. He seizes my wrist above our heads and I stumble backwards, but this time I hold my ground. Glaring at him through gritted teeth as I push with all my might, through the burn of my arms and the ache in my chest, “I’m going to kill you.” I growled.
He laughed at that and I only hated him more. I will make sure you die tonight Tobias Rogers. I pull the hatchet towards me and we’re caught in this dance of push and pull of the hatchet. I pulled the weapon down to my direction and with all the momentum I had, I jumped from where I stood and tried to dig this axe into his chest but he redirects the blow and kicks me off to the side.
A winded gasp escapes me and I wheeze for air as my body slams against the wall.
“NO!” Through blurry eyes I can see my dad shimmying in his restraints and I push myself up before jumping on Tobias’ back. I wrap my arms around his neck and I put him in a chokehold. We stumble backwards and my back slams against the wall, it hurts but I’m determined to see Tobias in a coffin. Tobias’ arms flail around for a second to balance himself before using the hatchet to try and get a hit on me. I choke him only tighter but it’s like nothing was working!
I felt an ease once he began to wheeze and my arms squeezed tighter around his neck. Tobias uses the hatchet to claw my arm and I reach out with my weak hand to stop the hit or weaken the blow only–
-Blood splatters everywhere. I heard a thump on the ground and the sound of the psychopath behind the door began to laugh and echo in my head. My vision blurs and my hold around Tobias’ neck falters as I realize that my index finger and thumb were sliced off. Blood oozed and drenched all around my hand and it dripped down my wrist and arm.
It must have been the shock and adrenaline but in that moment I couldn’t feel anything, I was just so angry. I tightened my grip around Tobias’ neck and yanked down his mask with what fingers I had left. I shoved my bleeding hand into his mouth, choking him in my blood.
His hand grips my wrist, pulling my hand out but I try and force my hand further down his throat. He’s choking. Good.
I squeezed his neck some more and Tobias began to slam my back against the wall, again and again. The hand that wielded the hatchet swung upward and directed it to my head. Shit. I push us off of the wall and we fall forward and slam against the ground, the hatchet in his hand flies off to a short distance away from us.
My hand eased from his body as I felt my body begin to run with such a pain I’ve never felt before, all of it coming from my amputated fingers. Tobias chokes and wheezes for air. I climb over him, smacking his face against the ground as my bleeding hand reaches for the hatchet. Holding this is going to be a struggle, I reach for it anyway and both my hands wrap around the handle of the blade. I backed into my dad’s position, directing the hatchet to Tobias’s body.
“Dad?”
“You’re crazy (Name)!” He shimmies in his seat and my legs shook as I stood up to face my dad. He’s still tied up, I use the hatchet to hastily cut him off of his restraints and he rips the tape off his skin as he embraced me for a quick moment, “Let’s get out of here-”
“Not quite!” The Pale Psycho from the door somehow broke in and pointed the knife from my kitchen to us and I shield my dad with my bleeding hand, behind the pale psycho I see Toby getting up after choking on my blood. I could feel him seething.
I hold the hatchet with my not amputated hand and swing to the Pale Psycho. I feel dad run past towards Toby and they get into a bloody fistfight.
Redirecting my attention to the Pale Psycho I scowled as he licked his lips, “I like you. You bite.” He’s disgusting. He parries my swing of the hatchet and speeds to me, the knife directing itself to my shoulder and I cry out from pain as he pulls it back. I gripped my shoulder and he licked my blood off his blade.
“Fresh ones are always the best.” His eyes never leave mine. My arm is fucked from moving unless I want to be in pain while I try and defend myself…
My hand waves with the hatchet anyway and I swing back and forth to attack the Pale Psycho and his eyes only widen more than they already are, gleaming as he awaited each attack and dodging them in a way I don’t understand. In a fit of frustration I step back and throw the hatchet in his direction and he ducks only for the hatchet to dig into my fathers back.
My heart drops. “NO!”
The Pale Psycho looks back and cackles as dad toppled over on his knees, wheezing and howling in pain. Dad reaches for what's behind him and I see Tobias wield another hatchet I didn’t see before and swings it to my dad’s face.
Dad falls on his side, his body thudding against the ground like a heavy boulder. Red stains the floor in waves.
Eyeless Jack,Ticci Toby, and Angie Somnia! (Mostly)
this is purely self indulgent. Ej and Toby are my comfort characters and would be my sona’s father figures. The only ship is TicciJack!
note: drawings are put on hold for two days. We have family in and it’s my baby brother (oldest) birthday party! :] I won’t be sitting long enough to draw. If you have a Mexican family birthday party don’t have rest unless you escape to a room.. even then- there’s a random baby in there -_-
ready to head back? -> master list
Ej remembered the first day Angie showed up to the mansion. Covered in blood, roses with eyes, and ruined clothes. She was asking about Alex. Ej hadn’t talked to her personally but did overhear her talking about a sister. Everyone gathered to see the newcomer. It frighted Angie who stood anxiously watching everyone. Nurse Ann and Ej took care of the girl. Sewing her clothes and cleaning the blood that was soaked into her bones now.
“You’re staring..” Ej commented. Angie flinched, the pupils on her roses going small. “Sorry I’ve never seen a demon before. Or real horns..” she muttered. A silence stretched. “Can I touch them?”
Ej let out a hearty laugh. “I knew you would ask. You’re not the first.” His hooves clicked on the floor as he leaned down to her height. “Have at it, kid.”
That was two years ago however. Things were different now.
Angie wasn’t shy or anxious anything. Fair from it actually. She.. never.. ever.. stopped talking. Or moving for that matter.
‘5:30’
“Ej.. Ej.. Jack.. Jackie..” Angie poked his cheek as he slept. He didn’t wake. She rolled to the other side of the bed. “Toby.. Toby.. Ticci… Tobias” she poked around his face. Toby groaned, swatting at her hand before rubbing his face. “I’m up.. I’m up..” his voice hoarse. He rolled out of bed only for Angie to roll in, cozying up in the warmth left over and their heavy blankets, she practically purred. Parents really do have the better beds. “You butthole-“ he flicked her forehead which made her yelp. “Nun-uh! You wanted to wake us you, YOU are getting up to!”
Ej woke out a pitched scream, he sat up quickly and looked over. Toby had Angie In a body slam. “Surrender!” He shouted. “NEVER!” Angie screeched. “I will surrender to a smelly unc!” She screamed and kicked her feet when she was squished into the bed, her protests silenced by the sheets.
“you guys are so immature.” Ej yawned.
that was their mornings.
and this was their days looked liked.
Toby had left hours ago with the rest of the proxies. And Angie was following ej around instead of doing her job. Ej being a demon he was quite a bit taller than Angie. So she often hung on his neck looking over his shoulder.
“what’s that?”
“that’s the spleen”
“and that?”
“The pancreas.”
a giggle escaped Angie. “And that?”
“If you comment on another penis size I’m kicking you out.”
“sorry..”
Angie watched with curious eyes as ej sliced up bodies. Packaged different organs and parts. Some staying in the mansion while others would be sold on the black market. “Hey Jackie-dad?” Ej replied with a hum of acknowledgment.
“can we do a lobotomy?.. i saw one on tv but I wanna do one.”
“only if you can find a live host, dear.”
“hm..” Angie dropped from ej’s back and walked off. Ej didn’t say anything.
five minutes later Angie was dragging in a knocked out Jeff. “Jackie-dad I brought back a host!” She said happily.
Ej stared
“… absolutely not. He already acts lobotomized. Put it back and get a fresh one. Don’t be lazy.”
“shucks..” she muttered, dragging Jeff away again.
in the end, Angie did get to preform her lobotomy on a person. She thought it was stupid and fed the guy to Elliot.
I think they'd live somewhere in a small area of Oregon, with a tiny town not too far away. They probably wouldn't go into town very often since they're wanted — even if everyone knows them as the guys in masks, they still can't really say they're completely safe around people.
Their house is pretty ordinary. A small wooden cabin somewhere near a road, but tucked away in a spot where you wouldn't find it right away unless you knew the forest well enough to actually reach it. The doors are always locked. A few windows clearly have cracks in them, and there's often a draft coming through. Everyone makes sure all the windows are shut tight — just because they're wary of tourists or other curious people who might want to poke through their stuff... or even other creeps, for that matter.
There'd be a bunch of logs lying around outside, some of which would roll across the ground every now and then and have to be stacked back up.
Inside, it's cozier — almost too cozy, honestly, especially given who lives there. All the rooms are small. The living room would be tucked under a wooden staircase, with an old fireplace in the center against the wall — though they'd only light it in winter. I don't think they really need the warmth that often to bother using it much. There's a small wooden table, and a leather armchair nearby where jackets would often get tossed, or a rifle carelessly thrown over it.
The kitchen is pretty tiny too, but not bad. They got lucky that most of the furniture wasn't too damaged by the time they found the place. A small white fridge, and again, everything's in brown and wooden tones. A round table — and all three of them definitely wouldn't fit around it, so arguments were unavoidable, especially between Tim and Toby.
The bathroom would probably be on the right side of the living room. It's really tiny — just a regular toilet, a sink next to it, and a shower stall. Brian would definitely be the cleanest out of the three, so from time to time he'd make Tim and Toby clean up after themselves. It stays fairly tidy because of that.
Speaking of the rooms — all of them are pretty messy.
⊹Brian mostly just smooths out his blanket every now and then. His things don't usually end up scattered all over the place like Toby's, but he doesn't really try to be particularly tidy either. When getting ready for a mission, he'd toss a couple of sweaters onto his bed just to find the jacket he's looking for — though honestly, I don't think he cares much about it if he's running late.
⊹Tim,on the other hand, would throw his clothes around the room during bursts of aggression just to let out his anger, and by the time he's calmed down, he has no energy left to clean up. Sometimes Brian helps him out if the room starts looking like a complete dump. Tim tries not to damage the furniture or anything like that, so it's usually just his clothes that go flying... His bed is unmade but fairly clean — simply because he doesn't have a habit of eating on it or climbing in with dirty clothes on.
⊹Toby is probably the least interested in cleaning. I think he's somewhat hyperactive, so he'll toss jackets onto his bed or even the floor with the intention of picking them up later — but that never actually happens, and the clothes just keep piling up with each throw until he has to dig through the whole heap just to find something. His bed is rumpled and never made. There's a circular target on his wall where he throws his axes, and one of them is definitely stuck in there. His glasses also tend to get lost in all the mess — and maybe after a few comments from Tim or Brian, he finally clears things up (by just shoving the whole pile into the closet, lol).
I hope this is good enough because I'm new to writing ໒꒰ྀིっ˕ -｡꒱ྀི১ sorry in advance if there's anything wrong with the translation or anything else..english isn't my first language :p
