sender sits down quietly next to receiver after receiver kills someone / @yrghostie / accepting !
The body was only half-mutilated. In the midst of his dissection, a revulsion had overtaken him so furiously that his only desire was to get away. Crawl to a safe haven, beg for forgiveness, skin himself raw to repent for his malevolence. Despite the dim surroundings, he felt as if a spotlight were on him displaying every failure, every weakness to an invisible peanut gallery. Like he was a mere cadaver for students to pick over.
His forearms rested atop his bent knees. In one hand, his dirty Buck dripped in time to the pulsating ache in his head and the pounding of his heart. In the other, his mask, angled so its ebony gaze peered outward rather than at the failure of a human who grasped it.
Of all the people to sit beside him in this moment, Danny was relieved it was Keres.
"It doesn't feel the same," he murmured. His glassy eyes stared at the body he could not successfully desecrate. Who even was it? Names eluded him. There was nothing inside of him but an agony. He wanted to claw himself open and rip it out. "There's no fulfillment anymore."
A man who wanted to be Ghostface so terribly he'd skin himself alive to achieve such a goal sat beside the Ghostface entity who wanted to be human. The world's cruel idea of a joke.
"If I could switch our places. . ." Danny's voice broke. He shook his head. "God, I would."
The silence that enveloped was not a peaceful one. Danny's jaw clenched and unclenched. He'd unknowingly adjusted his grasp on the mask so the yawning face peered at him. Inside, a rage flared. He imagined throwing the mask to the ground, stomping on it, stabbing it, anything to release these unfamiliar emotions and violate the one thing he could never be.
Instead, he yanked the mask back on, pulled the hood over his head.
When he stood, Ghostface offered Keres a gloved hand.
