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storytimewithnova · 9 months

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Shattered Promises: Love's Mosaic

Chapter 1: The Tragic Accident

Kuroo stood frozen on the side of the road, shock and disbelief coursing through his veins. His heart pounded against his chest, threatening to burst out from the intense pain it held. It felt as if the world had come crashing down around him, shattering into broken pieces.

The car that was supposed to carry his beloved Chibi-chan to the church was now a mangled mess. The blaring sirens of the emergency vehicles filled the air, drowning out Kuroo's anguished screams. The drunk driver who had carelessly smashed into their wedding day, taking away his happiness in an instant.

As the reality sank in, tears streamed down Kuroo's face, mixing with the rain that started pouring down from the heavens. The happiest day of his life had turned into a nightmare beyond his worst fears. He collapsed to his knees, clutching his chest, feeling as though his heart had shattered along with the car.

Chapter 2: The Healing Presence

Months passed, and Kuroo found himself drowning in a sea of grief and despair. It was during this dark time that Tooru, Shoyo's older brother, became an unexpected source of solace. Tooru spent his days at Kuroo's side, providing much-needed comfort and companionship.

Tooru would often come over to Kuroo and Shoyo's house, helping him sort through the memories that haunted every corner. He would listen patiently to Kuroo's stories about Shoyo, offering a sympathetic ear and a shoulder to cry on. Through their shared pain, a bond began to form between them.

Together, they visited Shoyo's grave, finding solace in the peacefulness of the cemetery. Kuroo looked into Tooru's eyes and made a silent promise to his beloved Chibi-chan. He vowed to keep living, to find happiness again, and to honor Shoyo's memory.

Chapter 3: Unexpected Love

As time went on, Kuroo and Tooru's bond grew deeper. They found solace and understanding in each other's company, and a spark ignited within their hearts. Kuroo, who believed he would never love again, found himself torn between guilt and the possibility of happiness.

Tooru, too, was struggling with his own demons. He had been in an abusive and toxic relationship with Iwaizumi for far too long. He made the courageous decision to break free from that toxic cycle, realizing that he deserved to find true happiness.

One fateful evening, Tooru confessed his feelings to Kuroo, his voice filled with vulnerability. He told him that he wanted to honor the promise he made to his baby brother and be there for him, even if it meant breaking his heart again.

Chapter 4: A Promise of Love

Kuroo hesitated, his heart torn between loyalty to Shoyo and the growing affection he felt for Tooru. But in Tooru's eyes, he saw a flicker of warmth and something he thought he had lost forever – love.

He took Tooru's hand in his, letting go of the guilt and pain that had consumed him for so long. Together, they made a silent vow to cherish each other and create a new path, one that would intertwine their broken pieces and heal their wounded souls.

Kuroo stood before Shoyo's grave once again, this time with a renewed sense of hope. He whispered under his breath, "In another life, my Chibi-chan, we will find each other again and make it down that aisle. Even if I have to break all tradition and drive you there myself."

As the wind gently brushed against Kuroo's face, carrying the echo of Shoyo's laughter, he felt a sense of peace. The broken pieces of his heart were slowly starting to mend, and he knew that with Tooru by his side, they would find happiness once again.

Chapter 5: Love's Resilience

Kuroo and Tooru's love story unfolded with both tenderness and resilience. They faced their fair share of challenges and obstacles, but their unwavering commitment to each other pushed them forward.

Tooru's decision to leave Iwaizumi was not without consequences. The toxic ex-boyfriend relentlessly tried to win him back, unleashing a wave of harassment and threats. However, Tooru stood firm, determined to protect himself and to build a future with Kuroo that he never had the chance to realize with Shoyo.

Kuroo, on the other hand, struggled with guilt. He often found himself questioning whether he was betraying Shoyo's memory by falling in love with his brother. Yet, with every passing day, Tooru's love and support comforted him, reaffirming that their bond was something separate, something new.

Chapter 6: A New Beginning

As their love deepened, Kuroo and Tooru decided it was time to start anew. They left behind the memories and the pain that haunted their old home and moved into a place they could call their own. It was a symbolic step towards healing and building a future together.

In their new home, Kuroo and Tooru created a sanctuary where love and joy thrived. They decorated the walls with pictures of Shoyo, honoring his memory and keeping him forever close to their hearts. Every now and then, they would share stories about him, keeping his spirit alive in their lives.

They also pursued their individual dreams and passions. Kuroo continued his studies in architecture, pouring his heart into creating beautiful structures that would stand the test of time. Tooru, on the other hand, found solace in art, pouring his emotions onto the canvas, creating masterpieces that reflected his journey of healing and love.

Chapter 7: Love's Legacy

Kuroo and Tooru's love not only became a source of strength for themselves but also inspired those around them. They became advocates for healthy relationships, raising awareness about domestic abuse and the importance of self-love.

Tooru shared his story of leaving an abusive relationship, empowering others to break free from toxic cycles. Kuroo, with his gentle presence and unwavering support, became a symbol of resilience and the healing power of love.

Their love story touched hearts and gave hope to those who felt broken and lost. Kuroo and Tooru became beacons of love, reminding everyone that even in the face of tragedy, it was possible to find happiness again.

Chapter 8: A Promise Fulfilled

Years passed, and Kuroo and Tooru found themselves celebrating their love once more. This time, they stood together at the altar, surrounded by friends and family who had witnessed their journey and supported them every step of the way.

As they exchanged their vows, Kuroo's voice trembled with emotions, "My beloved Chibi-chan, even though you are not physically here with us, your spirit continues to guide us. And today, as I marry your brother, I know you are smiling down on us, knowing that your promise has been fulfilled."

The room filled with tears of joy, as everyone present felt the weight of their love and the unbreakable bond that had formed among them. Kuroo and Tooru kissed, sealing their love with a promise to honor Shoyo's memory and live a life filled with happiness.

And as they danced their first dance together as husbands, the broken pieces of their past had transformed into a mosaic of love, resilience, and a future as bright as the sunrise.

Chapter 9: Embracing Life, Together

The years rolled by like a gentle breeze, carrying with them moments of joy, laughter, and love. Kuroo and Tooru navigated the twists and turns of life side by side, their love growing stronger with each passing day. They faced triumphs and tribulations as a team, never wavering in their commitment to one another.

Their love story became an inspiration, as they began counseling sessions for individuals who had experienced loss or abusive relationships. They poured their hearts into helping others rebuild their lives, offering guidance, support, and a glimmer of hope.

Amidst their advocacy work, Kuroo and Tooru found solace in their shared hobbies. They traveled the world, exploring breathtaking landscapes, immersing themselves in different cultures, and creating memories that surpassed their wildest dreams. Each trip, they left a piece of Shoyo's spirit in the places they visited, ensuring he would forever be a part of their adventures.

Chapter 10: A Legacy of Love

As they approached their twilight years, Kuroo and Tooru's love remained as resilient as ever. They had managed to heal the broken pieces of their hearts, building a life founded on love, compassion, and acceptance. Their relationship became a testament to the power of love's ability to mend the deepest wounds.

Surrounded by their loved ones, Kuroo and Tooru sat by a crackling fireplace, the warmth mirroring the love that filled the room. Their eyes twinkled with shared memories and a quiet contentment that comes from a life well-lived.

In that moment, Kuroo turned to his beloved husband, placing a weathered hand on his cheek. "Tooru, my love," he spoke softly, his voice carrying the weight of a lifetime together, "thank you for teaching me that love can mend even the most broken of hearts. Our journey has been filled with joy, sorrow, and everything in between. Now, as we embrace the golden years, I want you to know that I am eternally grateful for the love we have shared."

Tooru's eyes shimmered with unshed tears as he engulfed Kuroo's hand in his own. "Kuroo, my everything," he whispered, his voice filled with a lifetime's worth of love, "I am thankful every day for the incredible love we have forged. Together, we have overcome the darkest of nights and celebrated the brightest of days. Our love has become a beacon of hope for those who have lost their way. I am forever grateful for you, my love."

And as they shared a tender kiss, a sense of completeness washed over them. Their love had transcended time, proving that healing was possible, even amid shattered dreams and broken pieces. In that moment, they realized that their story was not just about their love for each other but also about the transformative power of love itself.

Epilogue: Love's Mosaic

The story of Kuroo and Tooru, titled "Love's Mosaic," became an enduring legend whispered in the hearts of many. Their journey reminded people that love could triumph over any tragedy, and that even in the face of shattered hopes, new beginnings were possible.

Their legacy lived on, not only through the memories shared by those whose lives they touched but in the countless lives that were mended as a result of their love and advocacy. The broken pieces that had once defined their lives had been transformed into a mosaic of love, resilience, and the unwavering commitment to never give up on happiness, no matter the obstacles.

And as the sun set on their lives, Kuroo and Tooru held hands, finding solace in knowing that their love story would continue to inspire future generations, reminding them that hope was always within reach, waiting to heal the broken pieces and create something beautiful.

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little-spoiled-brat · 2 years

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omg i love your recent new little fic of levi have a nightmare about him losing y/n and becoming clingy... so cute!!

okay but hear me out, what if it was reversed with y/n having a nightmare about losing levi.

pairing: levi x reader

tw/cw: panic attack, angst in y/n's nightmare, comforts from levi <3, alternate version of this

author's note: i have a lot of angst in my inbox, who hurt you guys? are you guys okay?

- i'm still here -

blood. there was nothing but blood and mangled bodies on the floor, you felt trapped. every direction you turn to, there was a familiar face that stared back at you with a dead expression.

walking a bit further, your knees gave in as the bodies of your superiors laid on the floor. erwin and hange were dead. a few feet away from them were the bodies of the cadets of the 104th, all staring back at you with a dead expression.

you let out a gut wrenching scream, pulling at your hair as tears fell down your cheeks uncontrollably.

"y/n!"

your head shot up towards the direction of the voice, the scream. that voice yelling your name was the same voice that gave you comfort. that you called home.

levi.

with blades drawn, you got up and ran to the direction of his voice. your body trembling in fear, you already lost everyone else. you can't lose levi too.

"levi!" you yelled as his pained screams were all you heard. it made you panic even more, hearing him scream in pain but not being able to do anything but listen.

you ran even more, tears blurring your vision as you saw a titan and you felt your heart drop to your stomach. levi was on the floor, in a pool of his own blood as you angrily slashed the titan before running towards your beloved.

"levi? levi, can you hear me?" you asked, hands shaking as you laid his head on your lap and put pressure on the gaping wound on his neck - desperately trying to stop the bleeding but it was no use.

"y/n" levi choked out weakly as he reached up and cupped your cheeks. you held his hand tightly, afraid that he'll slip away if you let him go.

"please don't leave me, you're the only one i have left. please, levi. i don't want to be alone again" you pleaded, sobs racking your body. your mind was too hazy to function, unable to think of anything else but the blood, levi's blood, on your hands.

"i'm sorry" levi said, barely above whisper as his hand went limp and his eyes closed. your entire world stopped, shaking your head in attempt to wake yourself up from this living nightmare.

"levi! levi, no. please, no. don't leave me too"

"please! please come back!"

"levi please! i love you!"

you shot up in bed, breathing heavily as tears fell down your cheeks. you curled up into a ball and tried to even out your breathing but it only made it worse.

you pulled down at your collar, desperately trying to get some air as a panic attack started. your breathing was shallow, dangerously shallow as tears streamed down your cheeks.

the door to your bedroom was opened as hange rushed in. she rushed to your side, holding onto your arms in attempt to get your focus towards her.

"are you okay? what happened?" hange asked as you looked up at her despite the tears blurring your vision.

"l-levi" you sobbed as she nodded, immediately understanding and quickly left the room. you could hear her hurried footsteps running to the other end of the hallway.

you sat there, your panic attack getting worse with each second that passed as you felt like you would pass out at any given moment. the door was suddenly opened again but this time, it was levi.

you immediately reached out for him as he pulled you in his arms. you closed your eyes and pulled him closer to you, needing to feel his body pressed up against yours.

"shh, deep breaths. deep breaths, y/n. come on" levi instructed as he took deep breaths with you and you followed, you were still trembling in his arms as he tightened his grip on you.

"one more" levi said as you both exhaled deeply before letting it out, your body slowly stopped shaking but tears still fell down your cheeks.

"there you go. there you go, y/n" levi said, kissing your forehead as you pulled away from him a bit to look at him.

"y-you're actually h-here?" you asked, reality still not setting in as levi nodded, cupping your cheeks and gently caressing it with his thumbs.

"i'm here, y/n. you're safe" levi assured as you gently put your hand on the side of his neck, where the wound was in your nightmare, and gently caressed the soft skin with your thumb.

you nuzzled your face into his neck as he ran his hand through your hair and down your back, repeating the same gesture to further calm you down.

"don't you have paperworks to finish?" you asked after you managed to calm down after a few minutes.

"tch. you just had a panic attack, you're more important than those paperworks. erwin can wait for those tomorrow" levi said as you smiled softly and kissed his neck in reply.

"what caused your panic attack anyway? you haven't had one in a while" levi asked in a softer tone, silently telling you that you didn't have to answer if you didn't want to as you stayed silent for a few seconds.

"i-i had a nightmare" you started as levi's grip on you tightened as he himself knew how bad nightmares can get.

"do you want to talk about it or do you just want me to continue holding you?" levi asked as you nodded your head before sighing, you untangled yourself from him a bit to look at him properly.

"we were on an expedition and it all somehow went wrong, everyone was on the floor. d-dead. hange, erwin, the cadets of the 104th. i-i lost it upon seeing them but then i heard- i heard y-you. i was so scared and w-when i found you, i was t-too late. i couldn't- i couldn't s-save you" you choked, levi cupped your cheeks and wiped away the tears that managed to slip down your face.

"it was just an nightmare, none of it was real. hange's here, erwin's here, the brats from the 104th are here, and i'm still here, with you" levi said as you smiled, leaning into his touch.

you slowly leaned in and kissed levi on the lips as he immediately returned it.

"i love you" you whispered, pulling away from the kiss as the both of you panted softly from the lack of oxygen.

"i-i love you too" levi stammered, a pink shade tinting his cheeks as he still gets shy from saying those words despite dating for a few years and you chuckled.

"shut up" levi grumbled, rolling his eyes but gave you one of his rare smiles - the smile that only you have the privilege to see often.

"do you want to go to sleep? it's late" levi asked as you nodded. "can i sleep in your room? i don't want to be left alone"

"tch, brat. come on" levi said as he stood up from your bed but you didn't move from your spot. he raised an eyebrow at you as you grinned and made grabby hands at him, indicating that you wanted to be carried to his room.

levi rolled his eyes at you but scooped you up in his arms without hesitation, kissing your nose as he brought you down to his office on the other end of the hallway.

he gently set you down on his bed as you immediately curled up underneath his covers, inhaling the faint scent of cleaning supplies and black tea that came from his bed as well as the faintest scent of your perfume.

"tch. move" levi said, pushing you gently to your side of his bed before getting in beside you as you giggled.

levi pulled you to his chest as you laid on top of him, his arms wrapped securely around you as you buried your face his chest. the soft thumping of his heart putting you at ease, an indication that he was still here, with you.

"goodnight, brat. i love you" levi whispered, kissing the top of your head as a small tired smile pulled at the corner of your lips.

"goodnight, levi. i love you"

#levi angst #levi x y/n #levi fluff #levi x reader #levi ackerman x reader #levi ackerman #aot angst #aot x y/n #aot fluff #aot x reader #attack on titan #shingeki no kyojin #snk #snk x reader #aot #snk x y/n #snk fluff #snk angst

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levenxa · 3 years

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Post: 1//3

So uhmmm—me and @apatheticnatureiskey made a Dreamswap AU together 👀 👉👈 I drew all six references in the span of one and 1/2 days :)

The AU is called DS! Storytwist (it’s a horrible name we know-) And it’s basically Dreamswap x Storyspin // the character cast gets mangled and shit. 😩✨

OG Dreamswap: @/onebizarrekai

Here’s some info about them below:

Nightmare -

Character Name - Nightmare {lastname}

Swapped With - Dream 😜

Height - 5’6

Sexuality - Pansexual

Gender- Male

Pronouns - He/Him

Age - 125

Weakness - His fear listed down below obviously :<) // Error or Dream getting hurt ig // Killing people he doesn't want to kill //

Fear - Pistanthrophobia // the fear of trusting people // or Losing Loved Ones

Weapon - Claymore Night Sword ??

Likes - Being the head of Zekren™ // Memes, The color purple, Chickens, He liked to read behind the tree and climb the tree because yes // Cookies // certified Dream simp // Inswapnia //

Dislikes - Negativity uh yeah // Sadness // being ugly // Blue in general //

Passions & Talents - Kazoo // Secretly also listens to Cupcakke Remixes // Big appetite mmm //

Other - Introverted // He still owns his pet Chicken Kevin (kevin just doesn't act like an overlord anymore and is happy chiken-) // He ate the negative apples because he was hungry, and because he wanted to be free from the village. // He decided to start a company called “Zekren” to help out others with their mental instability or insecurities in general. But since it is led by the Negativity Guardian, people are afraid of going there, rumors are made up saying that Nightmare is like a tall dark overlord who will feed on your negative emotions. Which isn't exactly true :,) His voice is kinda like a gremlin thirteen year old tenor thingy. They also take in homeless people so that they have a place to stay. Everyone is normally scared when they get “captured” by Nightmare but once they see the true colors they never want to leave :D (in a good way-)

Dream -

Character Name - Dream

Swapped With - Blue 😎✨

Height - 6’0

Sexuality - Bisexual

Gender - Male

Pronouns - He/Him

Age - 123 ?

Weakness - Anyone he cares about getting hurt (similar to Nightmare-) // His treehouse being wrecked // Falling into debt // Alexis //

Fear - Proditiophobia // fear of being betrayed

Weapon - Regular Positivity Magic

Likes - Violin, all types of music, mainly Classical and Pop // His treehouse // Hanging out in (or breaking into) “Zekren” Corp yuhhh // Flowers are prebby //

Dislikes - Cussing // Any kind of Abuse // Violence //

Passions & Talents - He can play the violin because one day Alexis shit on the instrument (said they sounded terrible not actually shitting on it) and so he decided to learn how to play it years after the apple incident. He sucked ass at it at first but now is really good :D He can actually drive woooow :0

Other - Ambivert // He lives in a tree house he built (sorry for the economy-) 🌲 // He is a regular tenor, but a little lower. He originally was the normal positive guardian that was emotionally and physically abused by many people in that god forsaken village. But mostly by this woman named Alexis. (hoe-) She is the mixture of Gaslight, Gatekeep, and Girlboss but worse. She’s also a gold digger might I add, not a good first friend for Dream at all. They randomly met in the village obviously, and just sort of became mutuals. Then Alexis’s toxic nature stood out and well it was too late to back out. She constantly asked for gifts, and guilt tripped when possible. It all ended when Nightmare ate the apples and well freed Dream from that village yeahhh. Nightmare wanted Dream to explore the world and see what he wanted to do so he did just that, making his treehouse, living with Cross, and being the side character. treehouse man my beloved /j

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disordersgirl · 3 years

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📃 what is the plot of your hyperfixation? and is it a movie, game, show, etc? 📌 how did you find your hyperfixation? ✨ what draws you towards your hyperfixation? what is interesting about it? 🎥 do you have any favorite scenes from your hyperfixation? 🎶 if your hyperfixation has songs/an ost, what is your favorite song from it? 💕 tell us about one of your favorite characters and why you like them!

tell me about the chuck e children

FNAF is technically a game series and a book series + the spinoffs (fazbear frights)!!

u remember when it was rly popular in like. 2015 or something? yeah i got sucker punched in the face with brainrot and now im trapped <3

never EVER going 2 be over bite of 83 cut scene it makes me go OOOOOGHGH

no official songs but you cant hide handshake nightmare handshake afton family being BANGERS

MANGLE MY BELOVED MANGLE!!!! I LOVE THEM SOOO MUCH!!!!! also out of the kids michael bc i love thinking abt angst and pain :^]

#fnaf kids #asks

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lloyds-department-archive · 3 years

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whos your favorite fnaf character from each game? or who are the ones you like most from each?

Fnaf 1: Bonnie the Bunny, HANDS DOWN. that boy makes me do my hand stim

Fnaf 2: mangle. shawty ily and ur broken body <3

Fnaf 3: mm. phantom frebby. he has charm. and one leg

fnaf 4: FREDBEAR. HANDS DOWN.

Fnaf 4:Halloween Edition: nightmare mangle my beloved...

Sister Location: funtime freddy+bon bon. dynamic duo, babe

Pizzeria Sim: ...orville elephant. I love magicians.

Security breach: Monty gator, yessirrrrr

#anon #davey rambles #fnaf

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aion-rsa · 3 years

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Fear Street Part 3: 1666 Ending Explained

https://ift.tt/3etXAqp

This article contains Fear Street Part Three: 1666 spoilers.

It never could be as simple as reuniting an ancient skeleton’s hand with its wrist, right? That became obvious last week when the Fear Street trilogy’s ostensible heroine Deena Johnson (Kiana Madeira) attempted to break the curse of Sarah Fier by attaching all missing appendages in the alleged witch’s grave… only to be warped to Shadyside’s early days in 1666.

Now in Fear Street Part Three: 1666, we’ve learned the full unholy breadth of Shadyside’s curse, as well as their sister township Sunnyvale’s good fortune—and it’s dark. Involving a perversion of all that is good(e), the curse that has taken so many beloved characters over the centuries turned out to be more twisted than perhaps anyone expected… but not for Sarah Fier, a victim of superstition and misogynistic zealotry. And in the end, Sarah got the last blood-curdling laugh. Here’s how.

Goode Men, Wicked Slaves

For all those who became suspicious last week of the recurring Goode family, your paranoia has been vindicated: that cop really is the Devil. Or at least he’s in service of the Dark One.

By traveling to 1666, Deena was able to walk around in Sarah Fier’s shoes and get a taste firsthand of what it’s like to be wrongfully accused of witchcraft by a Puritanical community (even if she inaccurately later describes them to be Pilgrims). As it turns out, Sarah was not a witch; she was merely the young woman who’s secret love for Hannah Miller (Olivia Scott Welch) caused a spurned suitor named Solomon Goode (Ashley Zukerman) to take umbrage. And as it so happens, Solomon was the one actually dabbling in the dark arts….

Aye, it was Solomon Goode who spilled his blood on Satan’s stone, beginning the process of offering “one name” and soul for demonic corruption in turn for good fortune for the Family Goode. When Sarah rejects his offer to join his unholy bargain with Black Phillip—and more vexingly takes offense over his severing her hand—Goode accuses Sarah for the black magic that’s bewitched Shadyside: the curse which caused a murderous minister to blind children!

Sarah hangs, but not before offering a curse of her own: She will get back at Goode one day and reverse his damnable curse. In the meantime—and at a cost of more than 300 years of functional blood sacrifices—Goode and his family profit from their deal with Old Nick. From father to son, the mainline of the Goode family tree teaches the dark ways to each successive generation, who every decade or so offers a new name and a new soul. The person selected for damnation then goes on a killing spree, spilling blood that the Devil apparently feeds on. Beelzebub in turn grants the Goode family and their Sunnyvale town ongoing prosperity. Hence why by 1994, Nick Goode (also Zukerman) is a corrupt police sheriff and his brother Matthew Goode is the mayor of Sunnyvale.

Meanwhile, Shadyside persists in squalor until….

Magic Blood?

The most satisfying twist of Fear Street Part Three is that halfway through, it becomes Fear Street: 1994 Part 2! To be honest the accents in the 1666 portion of the film were a little dicey, as was the, uh, lack of Puritanism in a film set amongst Puritans. So best to go back to the era of flannel and overalls!

When Deena returns to the ‘90s, she realizes that Sheriff Goode has offered the soul of her girlfriend Sam Fraser (also Welch) to the Devil so she’d kill Deena and keep the secrets of Sarah Fier’s shallow grave buried. And since they have Sam locked up at Ziggy’s house, that means all the Goode family’s damned minions are soon going to be after them. But our heroes come up with a pretty nifty plan.

Thanks to how they saw Shadyside’s collection of nightmares pursue Sam in Fear Street Part 1, Deena and her brother Josh (Benjamin Flores Jr.) deduce that the ghouls will be strictly after Deena’s blood—which low-key makes me wonder how the monsters have such genetic precision to distinguish Deena’s DNA from that of her brother’s. In any event, they team up with adult Ziggy (Gillian Jacobs) and Martin (Darrell Britt-Gibson) by offering the movie-stealing line of the night:

Josh: Wanna help us kill Sheriff Goode?

Martin: Let me get my coat.

The plan for getting it done is also initially pretty solid. They sneak into the Shadyside mall after hours—which just so happens to be built on the site of the Camp Nightwing massacre, which in turn is above where the Goode family’s Satan’s stone is buried beneath the earth—and have Deena cut her hand, dripping blood into a bucket. Then by combining that blood with green paint, they’re able to create cursed blood trails throughout the mall, with each trail leading into a different department store. When four of Deena’s pursuant boogeymen show up, our Scooby gang locks the monsters into their department stores and waits for Sheriff Goode to arrive and inspect the remains of his handiwork. Instead of mangled bodies, he finds his teenage crush Ziggy, now ready to dump blood on his head like Carrie references never went out of style.

It’s an elaborate plan which was built on the idea of unleashing all the ghouls intended to kill Deena on their own master. However, it might’ve just been simpler to shoot him. Oh well.

This final flourish of course goes horribly wrong but at least we get the fun sequence where the hapless heroes figure out they can delay the monsters by spraying each in Deena’s green blood, allowing for proxy fights between pseudo-Jason Voorhees and pseudo-Ghostface.

All Goode Things Come to an End

The actual resolution to this centuries-long terror turns out to be pretty simple. Deena follows Goode beneath the mall and to the Satan’s stone, as well as the literal unholy beating heart of the Goode family’s power. While she fails at stabbing the much bigger evil copper, she at least succeeds at running a knife through his power’s beating heart. It’s apparently as easy as that to undo the curse. It also allows the vengeful spirit of Sarah Fier to return from the dead and finally stab a Goode boy in the eye, sending him to Hell and Shadyside’s curse with him.

The plot’s mechanics are simple, but the implications are much more interesting. Because who else follows Nick and Deena toward the mouth of Hell but Sam, still possessed and now conveniently free of her restraints. She also attempts to thwart Deena and nearly kills her, yet Deena is able to make simple eye contact with her one great love and break through, shattering Satan’s grip.

It’s intriguing since, technically, we’ve seen Goode’s curse divide lovers before, with Tommy Slater (McCabe Slye) in Fear Street Part Two: 1978 not even hesitating to swing his axe into girlfriend Cindy’s heart. But then Deena and Sam’s love is strongly hinted at as being of a greater emotional purity. After all, Sam is clearly a descendant of Hannah Miller, the young woman whom Sarah Fier loved and saved from the noose by insisting that she alone was the witch of Shadyside, even bewitching poor Hannah into impure thoughts.

Are Deena and Sam the reincarnations of Sarah and Hannah? It’s possible, if even on a spiritual level since Sarah doesn’t appear to have any direct descendants. In any case, unlike so many slasher movies released between the 1970s and ‘90s, a lesbian romance is prominently featured at the center of this story, and is even the one redemptive light in Shadyside’s darkness.

Movies

The Netflix Fear Street Part 2: 1978 Easter Egg You Might Not Have Spotted

By Rosie Fletcher

Movies

Fear Street Part Two: 1978 Breaks Friday the 13th’s Darkest Rule

By David Crow

It also makes a striking juxtaposition next to Nick Goode’s dead body. This man might have been the current beneficiary of his ancestor’s bargain, but he represents something grimmer: the predatory nature of a society’s affluent feeding off the suffering and annual tragedies of their community’s underclasses. Sunnyvale flourished as a home for the wealthy while Shadyside wallowed in blood and trauma.

Kind of cuts deep the longer you think about it.

So… Who Took the Spell Book?

Of course this wouldn’t be an old school horror movie if it didn’t set up a sequel. Fear Street Part Three definitely offers resolution for its current narrative: Nick Goode is dead and exposed in the press as the Sunnyvale serial killer; Josh, meanwhile, may yet have his first girlfriend; and Deena and Sam are together, honoring Sarah Fier, if no one else will.

But beneath the reopened Shadyside Mall, we glimpse the book of black magic that Solomon Goode first used to make his pact, and a pair of hands belonging to an unseen face snatch it. Who stole the book and what are they up to?

Well, it’s worth noting that the Goode family has grown quite a bit in the 300-plus years since Solomon Goode accused Sarah Fier of witchery. Nick Goode appears to be the eldest son in the direct line. He’s the one taught the spells onscreen, and the boy who reads out Thomas Slater’s name—ironically in a bid to wrestle him away from Ziggy. However, just because Nick Goode is the one who damned Tommy and Ryan Torres in the last two Fear Street movies, it does not mean he was working alone.

Despite what Mayor Goode told the press about his brother, he almost certainly knew about his father and forefathers’ good work, as would the rest of the extended family. And here’s the thing…it will be so much harder next time for Deena (or, say, a new generation of millennial Shadysiders in the 2000s) to fight city hall. There’s also the likelihood that there’s more than one curse in that book of spells.

The Fear Street trilogy is over. The Fear Street shared universe may have only just begun.

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degenerate-yandere · 5 years

Note

Could you please write something (headcanons, drabble, whatever you want) for Jeritza (FE3H)? I love that man so much, but there's not enough content for him!! Thank you! ♡♡

Of course!!

TW: Violence/Gore, manipulation, yandere

You were forced to watch all of it. Every terrified face contorting into a silent plea, every sickening slash of cold steel against their throats. But that mercy was only afforded to the lucky. The ones who foolishly fought back were butchered beyond recognition, becoming no more than mangled messes of leaking gore. They had only tried to help. The innkeeper simply saw a lovers quarrel - a woman growing more distressed at the frustrated demands of her partner. He merely hoped to alleviate the situation with a warm smile and honeyed words. But now, his mouth was indistinguishable from the spewing gashes upon his face, each and every bar-hand meeting a similar grisly end.

You wanted to cry, vomit, expel every liquid from your shaking body. You were afraid to breathe, to inhale that macabre scent of insides-made-out.

“I hope you’ve come to your senses. Just look at what your arrogance has caused.” He wiped his blade with a discarded bar rag. You didn’t see the point, not when those hands were caked with coagulation, and his platinum locks were complimented with a crimson tinge.

Jeritza glanced at you, his sharp features returned to their stony serenity. Despite his outward lack of expression, you grew to love the intricacy of his reactions. The twinge of those lips whenever you laughed, the slight wrinkle of his nose when he was adorably perplexed.

You’d never have thought seeing him so passionate would make you so afraid. The cutting of flesh into ribbons was accompanied by a Cheshire grin, animosity animated every fling of his sword hand. He reveled in the crimson downpour. But now, whatever possessed him was gone, and you only wished for it to stay that way.

He stepped over what remained of a body, discarding the rag and sheathing his blade. You wanted to flee, to run as fast as you possibly could, but you knew he’d hunt you like prey.

A tired sigh escaped him as he approached you, hugged tightly against the tavern wall. Jeritza loomed over you, the paleness of his face was accentuated by the blood that painted it. He almost looked divine; like an angel of death.

You tried with every fiber of your being to scream at him, to throw obscenities and demand him to get the hell away from you. But fear easily overpowers anger, and fear was standing right before you.

“Jeritza…” You whimpered. The tears finally flooded from your eyes. It was all too much. You could’ve sworn you saw his lips quirk from the whispered mention of his name.

“Why?” Your head shook, you wanted to believe none of this happened - that it was all some vivid nightmare. How could he do any of this? This was the stoic, man-of-few-words you fell in love with. The man with the secret heart of gold, the one that made you feel safe and loved.

“Jeritza… please-” His finger shushed you, smearing red upon your lips.

“You must stop this insistence on being so childishly stubborn. It’s unbecoming of you.” The baritone of his voice was stern and commanding. He was scolding you. Talking down to you as if you were some child.

“I know you love me, (y/n), as much as I love you.” He tilted his head, a slight grimace forming on his lips. He moved his finger from your mouth, and began affectionately rubbing bloodied circles into your cheek with his thumb.

“So stop refusing to come with me. Stop hiding away from me like a coward.” Oh, how he wanted to be furious at you. But he couldn’t, not when the blood of those vermin looked so sweet upon your skin.

“I’m sure you’re as beautiful inside as you are out, my beloved.” He traced a finger against your jugular.

“I’m sure that blood of yours is just succulent. I’d love to slice you apart, admire every inch of that beautiful flesh.” Your sobbing doubled in intensity.

“Of course, I’d make sure it’s nice and slow. It’d be a waste to not savor every second of it.” Jeritza’s eyes gleamed with lust, his fingers now caging your throat in a light grip. You used to love the methodical way in which he spoke, but now it was just taunting, every excruciatingly slow rumble that erupted from his chest filled you with newfound dread.

“I may reconsider, however. Be a good girl, and there’ll be no need for punishment.”

“You - you can’t threaten me, jeritza-” Your desperate assertions were ceased with an impassioned kiss. He was ravenous, savoring the blood coating your lips, and biting down in hopes of drawing more. It was greedy. Insistent on stealing every flavor you had to offer, delighting in the delectable taste of every inch of flesh.

He finally pulled away, a barely audible moan escaping from his mouth. You were left gasping as his huffed breath grew closer to your ear. His voice was a whisper - almost affectionate in its delicacy.

“That isn’t a threat, my dear ~”

“It’s a promise.”

#jeritza #fire emblem three houses #yandere fire emblem #gore #yandere jeritza #jeritza x reader #yandere x you #yandere x reader #fire emblem #yandere jeritza x reader #my writing #jeritza fire emblem

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superiordragonlorde · 6 years

Text

Dreams

Blarg! So I know this is day 3′s prompt for @futureherodekuweek and I’m so late, but it’s the only one that I’ve finished because the rest of them I got started on but then was either too busy to finish or hit a writer’s block with the rest... urg... and it’s the end of Deku Week, so... yeah. And I don’t know if late submissions will be accepted. If they are I’ll try to squeeze out a few more prompts. If not, I’ll finish up the prompts eventually and post them on my ao3.

Anywho, enough with the rambling. Let’s get started!

Warnings: blood, corpses, regurgitation, death (you know... the good stuff) (but don’t worry, it’s all under the cut)

I hope you enjoy my failed attempt!

Screams fill and suffocate the air around him. They clamor over him, rake claws across his skin. Leave his mind scrambling to understand what they’re saying. What they’re crying out for.

His body refuses to move as he stares at the crushed rubble beneath his bruised and bleeding face. Blood trickles into his eyes, leaving them stinging and blurry. His chest heaves and contracts as something inside of him stabs at his lungs and refuses to release its grip on them.

Rolling over the screams is a voice. It’s deep, terrifying, assured, and victorious. It comes closer, speaking in a soft tone.

A hand grabs the back of his head and yanks him up by his hair. He’s pivoted around to face the voice.

A dark mask covering the being’s face and neck falls away to reveal a bald, eyeless face. A wide, tooth-filled grin stretches over the wrinkled skin. The mouth opens, and a laugh pours out of it, slamming into his face with a putrid stench of decaying bodies.

The hand’s grip tightens and every nerve alights in a horrifying pain. Something is being ripped away from him as the being cackles and bellows and roars.

The mouth stretches even wider, becoming a massive black hole. The hand slips away and he falls. His body turns in midair to see the being staring at him from the top of a building, watching his descent with that sickening grin. He looks over his shoulder to find the ground rising up to meet him, solid and terrifying. He knows he can save himself. He could if he tried. But that hand had ripped his safety away. It had taken what was his. What he’d sworn to protect.

The ground comes closer. It grows uneven until the bumps and flaws in the earth turn into corpses. Their faces are twisted in anguish and fear, expressions he’s fought to alleviate from them all. Right below him, ready to accept him as one of their own, two familiar faces staring up at him with distant eyes. His mother and All Might. Their arms move and reach towards him. He’s about to fall onto them. Their fingers brush his face. They’re cold and stiff. He opens his mouth. A sound bubbles up from his throat.

Midoriya feels the scream rip from his lungs as he shoots up in his bed. He shivers, panting, and clutches his sheets in a desperate grip. Sweat drips from his hair and leaves dark dots on the fabric. He bends over, failing to keep his roiling stomach calm. It heaves and flips, remembering the vivid images that are still flashing through his mind. More dots appear on his sheets, but they’re not just from his sweat anymore.

He keeps his eyes fixed on his clenched hands, letting his heart pound against his ribcage. This hasn’t been the first nightmare he’s had this week about All for One. Actually, ever since All Might fought All for One, proclaiming on live television “Now it’s your turn” as he pointed towards the camera, similar dreams have plagued some of Midoriya’s nights. The nightmare comes and goes, each one more vivid and terrifying than the last.

This last one was the most terrifying of them all.

Midoriya swung his feet out from beneath the sheets, rubbing a hand over his eyes. It came back wet. There was no use laying in a dark room when sleep was as far out of reach as the stars themselves. That would just make him overthink and worry about the dream until his insides had twisted up so much he was racing to the bathroom to relieve some of the pressure.

He took in a deep, trembling inhale before pushing himself off of his bed and opening the door.

The dorms were dark and silent, just as they had been every other night Midoriya had strode through the hallways and rooms with little else to occupy his frazzled mind. No one in their right mind would be up at such an early hour when they had Aizawa as their homeroom teacher. Despite how many times the teacher himself would crawl into his sleeping bag and doze during his class, he never let his students have the same luxury.

Midoriya felt a corner of his lip twitch up at the thought of the Underground Hero and his catnaps. The ghost of a smile fell when his mind flashed back to the dream and Aizawa’s mangled face in the pile of corpses. He gripped his chest and rested a hand on the wall to steady himself. His stomach churned and roiled. He shoved his thoughts somewhere else. To his friends. His mother. But they all circled back to that dream. Every body twisted, every face frozen in terror and pain, and every hand clawed for him, reaching out for relief or vengeance.

Midoriya’s stomach surged and he clapped a hand over his mouth and stumbled to the bathroom. He almost missed the porcelain bowl as he retched and heaved. His body shook as tears spilled onto his cheeks and mixed with the partly digested food in his stomach. The faces still sped through his mind, prompting more acidic mush to shove its way up his throat and out his mouth. His lungs clawed for air, choking him in their desperation. His stomach clenched and twisted again. His heart constricted with each retch. The world was fading into black along the edges of his vision, tunneling until all he could see was his hands clutching the edge of the toilet and the food he was coughing back up.

A hand brushed over his shoulder blades, but Midoriya’s frantic, panicking mind didn’t register it until his heaving stomach had given everything it had, leaving the taste of bile coating his tongue and clogging his throat. His head hung over the toilet bowl, energy spent and leaving him exhausted and shivering. The hand continued to stroke his back, and now he could hear a voice murmuring along with it. He turned his head just enough to look over his shoulder. Through the fringe of his hair, he caught sight of thin, gangling arms and a shaggy, blond mop. Sharp blue eyes watched him beneath peaked brows. Hands grabbed his shoulders and pulled him back until he was resting against a thin, fragile frame of a body. His body wouldn’t stop shaking as his lungs fought for more air.

A soft towel was pressed against his face, wiping off the trails of bile and food mush. The towel dropped to the floor a moment later and the free hand carded itself through Midoriya’s saturated bangs. He rested his head on the bony shoulder, his hand reaching up to curl his fingers into the baggy white shirt. The long arms encircled him, pulling him closer. There’s no energy left in his body to sob and scream his fears. It was all spent clutching the familiar t-shirt as a damp stain grew under Midoriya’s face.

“Midoriya,” the voice whispered, concerned. “What’s wrong? Are you feeling ill? Do I need to bring you to Recovery Girl?” Midoriya couldn’t find it in himself to shake his head.

“No,” he croaked instead. “It’s... it’s not that, All Might.” Memories of the dream reach out and grab his throat in an iron grip. His trembling intensified. All Might’s arms pressed him closer as his fingers stroked through Midoriya’s hair.

“What was it, then?” Midoriya curled closer to the Pro-Hero, his fingers tightening their hold on the shirt. The sobs building in his throat shoved themselves out in choaked hiccups. All Might’s hand gravitated down to his spine, rubbing his back in long, smooth strokes.

“All for One,” Midoriya breathed, afraid his dream would smother him in its horrifying existence. He felt All Might stiffen beneath him, his hand faltering in its movements. “He- I- It-” the sobs were growing, stealing away his breath. His stomach twisted again, tighter this time, but there was nothing left in it that could be removed to alleviate the pain.

“It’s alright,” All Might whispered, bending over Midoriya in an attempt to shield him from whatever terrors his mind had conjured. “Everyone’s alright. You’re safe, Midoriya. He can’t harm you.” Midoriya shook his head, his entire being shaking from the force of his sobs. The Pro-Hero’s words did little to chase away his fears, but feeling the steady heartbeat inside that frail frame helped to ease them back, at least.

Maybe there would come a day where those dreams became a reality. Where Midoriya was useless and unable to protect everyone who depended on him. Maybe All for One would find him and take away the quirk he’d sworn to protect. But tonight, the villain was locked away, far out of reach from innocent lives and All Might. And the world’s beloved hero was alive, holding Midoriya to his chest and murmuring soft words of comfort to him. That knowledge was enough to calm Midoriya’s racing heart, but it did little to appease his frantic mind.

“Let’s get you to bed, Midoriya,” All Might suggested, helping him stand. Midoriya shook his head, sniffling.

“Can’t sleep,” he mumbled, drained of every resource of energy he had. All Might frowned, humming in thought.

“Very well,” he sighed. “Let’s go to the lounge instead.” He wrapped an arm over Midoriya’s shoulders and steered him out of the bathroom.

They both collapsed into the soft couch. Midoriya’s head lolled and rested on All Might’s shoulder again, an echo of their position on the bathroom floor moments earlier. The Pro-Hero made no effort to readjust or push him away.

Midoriya’s gaze fixated on the wall ahead of them, eyes dull and sitting above dark, bruised lids. His mind was growing slow and sluggish, but it still refused to stop and rest, dragging Midoriya along on its tireless journey.

“I’m going to take you to Recovery Girl tomorrow.” Midoriya blinked, snapped out of his thoughtless, existing state. All Might continued on, “And I’ll tell Aizawa you won’t be making it to your classes that day.” Midoriya struggled to sit up and look at him.

“I can’t skip class, All Might,” he stated, locking his eyes onto his hero’s. All Might frowned.

“When it comes to your health you can.” Midoriya opened his mouth to argue, but his brain scrambled for an excuse and All Might beat him to it.

“It’s just one day, Midoriya,” he soothed. “Recovery Girl will get you something that can help you fall asleep and you’ll be as good as new the next day. And you can’t expect yourself to learn when your mind is so exhausted. It’s like overtraining the body: you’ll do more damage than good.” Midoriya tore his eyes away to glare down at his hands. A sigh passed through him, dropping his shoulders and the weight that was previously on them.

“Ok,” he mumbled, leaning back into the couch and pressing himself into All Might’s side. The hero wrapped his arm around him and patted his shoulder, releasing his own sigh.

“It’s ok to be scared,” All Might started. He hesitated before continuing on. “Just don’t let it get you so worked up again.” Midoriya hummed in understanding, returning to staring at the wall. All Might sighed again and rubbed Midoriya’s arm, content for the moment to sit with him in the dark, early hours of the morning.

Just gotta say... I love Dad Might.

Alright then, thanks for reading!

#DekuWeek2k18 #bnha #izuku midoriya #deku midoriya #all might #dad might #nightmares #blood #corpses #death #regurgitation #I didn't go back and edit this one either...#the last time I did that it wasn't as bad as I thought it'd be #we'll have to see if my luck will continue #probably not...#oh well #blep #my fic #my writing

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andya-j · 6 years

Text

Green Eyed Boy 1. “The police are across the street.” Cal stood in front of the bathroom mirror, face covered in white shaving cream and an orange razor in one hand. The room was full of warm steam from the long shower he’d taken, but after his wife’s statement he’d gone cold. She knocked on the door again. “Did you hear what I said?” “At the Daniels’ house?” “Yes,” she said, “and there are a lot of them.” In other words, hurry up. He thought of the black notebook he kept in the bottom drawer of his desk, the Journal of Dead Animals. Cal was trembling. 2. The kitchen smelled like bacon. A plate of cooked strips was on the table, covered with paper towels that glistened with grease. Saturday breakfast; eggs, hash browns, toast and bacon was their tradition. Julie stood at the windows, peering across the street. He joined her. “Morning,” he said, giving her shoulders a squeeze. Two police cars were parked in front of the Daniels’ house. Another, a sleek grey color with no light bar on top, was angled in the driveway. A detective’s car, he thought. Or the coroner. “They’re pretty old,” he said. “One of them might have passed.” “Are you going to check?” He nodded. “Where’s the kiddo?” “Sleeping in.” Cal grabbed his coat from the mud room and exited the house. It was getting colder. The furnace needed an inspection, probably some repairs. Need to get that done before too long, he thought as he left the front yard. Cop cars at the neighbor’s house never meant something good had happened. When they’d bought the house, the Daniels had been the first to welcome them. They’d become friendly acquaintances. Kyle’s peculiarities had never pushed them away, making them true friends. He hoped everything was okay. The cop cars were black with white emblems on the door. Why did they make them so ominous? He stepped onto the Daniels’ walkway and saw the group on the side of the house. The Daniels, both white haired and stooped over with age, stood next to two police officers and a man in a suit, probably the detective. The formed a semi-circle around something on the ground. Cal approached, walking heavy so that they’d hear his footsteps. “Everything okay?” Stupid question. Old man Daniels waved and stepped away from the circle. Cal saw the dog. Rather, he saw what was left of her. She lay in a heap, blonde fur matted with a crust of blood. Parts of her internal organs lay on top her carcass. She’d been gutted. All that remained whole was her face and she stared into nothing, eyes vacant, dull and dead. “Oh no,” Cal said. “Something got a hold of my dog,” the old man said. Cal joined their circle, but only for a moment. Black flies hovered over the dog-corpse. One landed on something white, a sharp piece of broken bone maybe. Cal’s stomach flip flopped. He backed away. “You hear anything last night?” the detective asked. “I heard the dog barking, but not like it was being hurt.” One of the cops, he looked only a few years older than Kyle, said, “I’m calling this one a Code WTF.” Indeed. 3. Kyle shoved a forkful of scrambled eggs in his mouth. He’d covered them with hot sauce and the splotches of red, like watered down blood, against pale yellow egg triggered Cal’s gag reflex. “So what happned?” Julie asked. “Something killed the dog.” Julie sucked in a breath and covered her mouth. In that gesture, he knew that she knew. “No way!” Kyle said. “Tore it inside out,” Cal said, “must have been a wild animal.” “I want to see.” Kyle’s chair groaned as he backed up from the table. “You may not,” Cal said. They’d wanted a house full of children, a tribe of noisy boys and girls. That had been the plan when they’d bought the fixer-upper in Manitou. “I’m not a little boy,” Kyle said. That was true. He was twelve years old, almost a teenager. “I’m old enough to see crap like that.” “I don’t want you to,” Cal said. “It’s nothing you want to look at, believe me.” Julie put both hands on his shoulders, her protective touch keeping him in his seat. “You have enough bad dreams already, honey.” Children had not been in their destiny. Julie could get pregnant, but her body rejected each baby. Her womb cast them out, the pain a little worse each time. But Kyle survived. He was their sandy haired miracle, this handsome green eyed boy. Cal sat down at the table. The smell of breakfast, however, made his head spin. 4. Later, when Kyle locked himself in his room, he took Julie by the hand. He closed their bedroom door quietly, so that the boy wouldn’t hear. “It’s happening again,” he said, his voice a tight whisper. “What are we going to do?” “Don’t be ridiculous. He was home. I sat up with him for at least two hours.” The shock was gone. She’d had time to find denial and lock onto it like a life preserver. “What time was that?” “It was around three to five,” she said. “He wasn’t roaming around the neighborhood, all right?” “After he’d had the bad dreams?” “Yes.” “That’s exactly what I’m talking about. When Kyle has nightmares, bad things happen.” In Manitou, when Kyle was ten, dogs had died. Not died – been butchered, that was more like it. A poodle behind a tool shed, a pug on someone’s porch, both had been shredded into ribbons of meat. And as the murders went on, the neighbor’s had blamed Kyle. He was the weird kid on the block, the one who faced the world with an intense, silent stare. Julie described his quiet look as one of depth and creativity. “He’s a sensitive child,” she’d say, “and so very bright.” Cal thought it was just plain strange. So did the other kids, he guessed, because they stayed away from Kyle. “You sound like one of the crazy people in Manitou.” “It’s never been a large dog before.” If any of the kids that lived on the block were capable of sneaking out in the middle of the night and turning someone’s beloved pet into a mangled pile of guts, they’d reasoned it was him. He’d never left the house, not once, after bedtime. Back then his screams had awoken both of them when his night terrors overwhelmed him. The neighbors didn’t believe that spooky- eyed Kyle remained tucked in his bed at night. They pictured him hunting, sneaking into their yards, a silver knife reflecting moonlight as he went about his work. “It’s always been something small,” he added. “The Daniels’ retriever must have weighed a hundred pounds. Whatever it is, it’s getting stronger.” “You said yourself it must have been a wild animal. You’ve heard the coyotes. A den of them must live close by.” “No coyote would torture a dog like that.” “But our son could do it while he was asleep? You’re crazy.” She headed toward the stairs, conversation over. It had been the beagle’s death that had frenzied the neighbors. That dog had died inside. And the neighbor’s couldn’t stand the image of Kyle breaking and entering to do his killing. Had we not moved, Cal thought, they would’ve attacked us with torches and pitchforks. Maybe they should have? “I’ve kept a journal. His bad dreams coincide with an animal’s death. I can show it to you.” “As his parents it’s our job to protect him,” she said, “just in case you didn’t know that.” “Please, I know you love him. I love him, too.” “Do you?” “Of course I do.” “Then shut up about the stupid journal, please.” 5. The house in Evange was smaller. With one kid rather than a tribe, a few bedrooms was all they needed. The house needed work, but he could do most of the repairs himself. Best of all it was next to a forest. He’d imagined taking Kyle on long walks amongst the trees, the smell of earth and trees inspiring father-son talks. But that hadn’t happened. Now he told his boy, “I want to talk with you about the dog across the street.” It wasn’t normal for a boy to spend all of Saturday in his room – was it? Boys had sports practice, friends, something to lure them into the world. Not Kyle. He’ demerged from his room, his eyes red from computer burn, as the sun began to set. Kyle looked back, his expression indifferent. “What about her?” “Let’s go for a walk, just you and me.” He put his arm around the boy’s shoulders. Kyle looked up at him, a thin smile tugged at his lips. “When you were younger, before we moved -.” “Yeah, the neighbor’s dogs got creamed. It wasn’t me then and it wasn’t me last night. Sorry if you don’t believe me.” He’d said it without a change of expression. Anger would’ve been normal, the healthy kind of rage that accompanied denial when an innocent person was accused of something monstrous. He’d said it all so matter-of-factly. “I know you don’t mean to do these things,” Cal began, aware that his arms were shaking. “I wouldn’t hurt Macy. I liked that dog.” Macy – remember that for the Journal of Dead Animals. “I also know that something very frightening wakes you up at night. When you have these dreams terrible things happen. Do you realize that?” Kyle’s feet snapped over twigs and fallen branches. The woods thickened here. A man could get turned around in these woods, especially after dark. If the weather was cold enough, he could freeze to death a mile from home. It could happen to a boy, too, especially one unfamiliar with the woods. “I guess I do,” he said. “Can you tell me what you dream about?” “No.” “No because you don’t remember or no because you don’t want to?” “I honestly don’t know what I dream about. I know you don’t believe me. Besides, I’ve already talked about all of this with mom.” “If you dream of something… Vicious, something that wants to cause harm, maybe you can control it.” “Dad,” Kyle said, stepping out from under him. “You wouldn’t hurt me, would you? I mean you wouldn’t dig a hole out here and drop me in it, would you? I really didn’t do anything, seriously.” “God, no,” he said and shoved his shaking hands deep into his pockets. Kyle gazed at him, his green eyes shone like emeralds and, like gemstones, they showed no fear. “Okay, good.” “I would never hurt you,” he said. “Would you hurt me? Or your mom?” “Can we go back inside now? It’s getting cold.” “Sure,” he said. “Answer my question first.” “Never,” he said. “I swear.” They returned to the house, father and son. Cal wondered if Kyle couldn’t remember what he dreamed about, then what had he talked about with his mother? 6. The year’s first snow arrived later that week. Cal worked late, waiting out the traffic, and got home late. “I invited the Daniels over for dinner this Friday,” she said. “And?” “They’re busy.” So now they were friendless – again. “The heater’s on the fritz,” she added, changing the subject. “The heat’s been on and off all day.” “I’ll look at it this weekend,” he said. Nothing died for a while and, because of that, denial came easy. Cal watched Julie dote on the boy. She spoke to him in sweet, hushed tones, one hand on the small of his back. “What should we get him for his birthday?” she asked one night. All the years of longing for a child made her immune to him. “He’s been asking for a couple of new video game. I don’t remember which ones, though.” Cal rolled onto his side. “All of those games are violent.” “A little violence is normal for a boy his age.” She saw nothing but beauty in his strange green eyes. Cal worked late as often as he could and drove home long after dinner was over. Sometimes, he worked until exhaustion numbed him, then spent hours awake in bed, staring into the dark and listening for the bark of frightened dogs. 7. Kyle turned thirteen. He unwrapped his presents with methodical care. They’d bought him the video games he’d wanted, a couple of sweaters, new jeans and an expensive pair of shoes. “Do you love your presents, sweetie?” Julie asked him. “I do,” he said and smiled back at her, green eyes ablaze. “Maybe we should’ve got you a puppy,” Cal said. “You’ve always wanted a dog of your own, haven’t you?” Kyle looked to his mother, then shook his head – no. “Not since I was little.” He scooped up his new belongings. Cal heard his bedroom door shut a moment later. “What was the puppy comment all about?” “He wanted a dog at one time, that’s all.” “You know what I’m talking about. How could you bring that up? What if you’d ruined his birthday?” She left him alone. Cal watched cable in the living room, one mindless program after the other. On his way to bed, he saw a sliver of light from Kyle’s door. He paused at the doorway and listened. He heard only silence. Cal opened the door. He saw Kyle kneeling on the floor. The boy wore only boxers and his pale skin was wrapped by ribbons of shadow so thick they looked like tar. The black strips clung to his flesh, knife-like points stuck to his boney shoulder blades. It retreated, whatever it was, to the darkness under Kyle’s bed. Cal thought it looked a family of octopuses scurrying to their lair. “Hi, Dad.” The boy turned and looked up at him, a slow smile spreading to show white teeth. Cal blinked. A fluid coldness washed through him. Kyle’s bedside lamp glowed in warm yellow. No monstrous shadows lurked anywhere. “What’s wrong?” the boy asked, maintaining steady eye contact. “I thought I saw something.” “Mom’s right, you’re putting in way too many hours.” “Why are you on the floor?” “I was stretching,” he said. “My back was sore.” He stared at the boy. The boy gazed back at him, pleasant, somehow patient. “You look tired, Dad.” “Yeah,” he said and backed out of the room. 8. The furnace gave out the first week of December, right after they’d set up the Christmas tree. Cal stayed home to fix it. “Enough already,” Julie said, “call a professional.” They’d slept under extra blankets, but Julie still caught a cold. The repairman arrived late afternoon. “Wiring’s shot,” the guy said. He wrote a quote that Cal barely glanced at before handing over a credit card. The repairman went to grab his tools and he went upstairs to check on Julie. She had a space heater cranked on high. “Want some medicine?” She sniffled. “Please.” He poured her a cup of orange liquid. “Where’s the kiddo?” “He’s in detention.” Detention! So he’d misbehaved. That was something normal boys did. That was good. And for a moment he forgot about the cluster of shadows he’d seen clinging like a parasite to his young son’s body. “Really? What’d he do?” “I doubt that he did anything.” She downed the cold medicine like a shot. “He tells me that Mr. Bonner has it in for him.” “Which one’s Bonner?” “Algebra,” she said. “You’d know these things if you talked to him once in a while. And what are you smiling about? For God’s sake, Cal, he’s being punished.” He sat with her until the medicine’s deadening sleep took hold . It took only a few minutes. Kyle made it home before the repair was complete; and Cal saw something new in the boy’s green eyes – rage. He let the boy slide past him, watched him sulk to the stairs and ascend to his room. His hideout. He thought about following his son. For a moment, he even imagined having a fatherly talk while sitting together on the bed. But Kyle’s slouch and sullen expression kept him downstairs. Let him calm down, he thought, get over himself. Then we’ll talk. The heat kicked in an hour later. 9. “The police are here.” On Saturday morning, Cal stood in front of the bathroom mirror, face covered in white shaving cream and an orange razor in one hand. The room was full of warm steam from the long shower he’d taken, but after her statement he’d gone cold. She knocked again. “Cal?” “What do they want?” “To talk to us.” Cal dressed and went downstairs. He recognized the paunchy man in the kitchen. He’d been at the Daniels’ house, investigating the dog’s death. “We met across the street,” the man said. Cal eyed the fat automatic holstered on the man’s hip. “I remember.” He joined Julie. “Who could forget a thing like that?” “The detective says there’s been a homicide,” Julie said. The man nodded. “At your son’s school.” Cal said, “My, God.” “When I saw the body, I couldn’t help but think it looked a lot like the dog at your neighbors.” Cal thought of the black notebook he kept in a drawer in his office, the Journal of Dead Animals. I’ll need to change the title. He was trembling. Maybe shorten it to Journal of the Dead. “You don’t say,” Cal said. “I do say. The man was torn inside out.” Cars passed on the street outside, their tires hummed against the asphalt. “So you’re visiting us… Why?” Julie said. “What do you suppose it is?” “Something evil,” Cal said. “What teacher was killed?” “Who said it was a teacher?” “I just, uh, assumed.” “David Bonner,” the detective said. Algebra. Detention. The cold fury in Kyle’s bright green eyes. The detective made small talk for a long time. He asked what grade Kyle was in, when he’d be up, if he was one of Bonner’s students… The cop’s instinct, Cal thought, would lead him to Kyle, to all three of us. He’d have no evidence, no case to take to court. But he’d know. Just like the neighbor’s in Manitou had known. Just like the Daniels’ knew. Kyle was a different kind of boy. It was clear by his disturbing, unblinking gaze. He was dangerous. “May I speak with him?” “I wouldn’t want you to upset him,” Julie said. “Let us break the news about his teacher first.” The man’s right hand moved toward his gun and Cal thought he was going to draw and fire. He dipped into his pocket, though, and pulled out a business card. “Sounds like a fine idea,” he said. “Call me when he’s ready to chat. Nothing serious, just want to know if he ever saw anything unusual.” Cal thought of shadows so thick they looked like strips of tar… The detective left and Cal asked Julie, “Now what?” “Now you make him breakfast. I still feel terrible.” 10. He’d dreamed of a son. He admitted this to himself for what felt like the first time in his life. He’d longed for an athletic, straight A student, one that loved to watch football games on Sundays and didn’t mind his father’s company. “You’re not spending today in your room, kiddo,” he told the boy after breakfast. “We’re spending time together.” “Why?” “Because we’re father and son and we should.” “But what will we do?” Cal didn’t know. “I love you, Kyle.” Automatically, the boy replied, “I love you, too. But what are we going to do?” “There’s enough white stuff on the ground to make snowballs. You think you could beat me in a snowball war?” “I know I can.” “Grab your coat. Let’s see what you got.” Cal wanted to hear the sound of their laughter mixed together in the cold winter air. Kyle remained stoic, however, his gaze unbreakable. “For a boy who hates sports, you throw pretty good.” “This is weird.” “What is?” “Hanging out with you, I mean we haven’t done anything like this for a long time.” “That’s my fault.” “It’s okay. I’m getting kind of cold.” “You want to teach me how to play one of your video game?” Together, they gunned down zombies, breaking only to warm bowls of canned soup. The sun set early and, as darkness filled the room, Cal rose to finish his plan and murder his family. “I’m going to check on your mom.” “Kay.” Kyle’s avatar smashed another zombie into chunks. “Why don’t you meet me in the kitchen and we’ll dig something up for dinner.” The bedroom smelled like sweat. Julie was on her back, sleeping. He pulled the blankets up to her chin and kissed her fevered head. “Good night,” he whispered. “I’ll love you forever.” Then he swiped her bottle of cold medicine, scanned the instructions and went downstairs. Kyle made it to the kitchen as Cal set two glasses on the table and filled them with juice. He inhaled deep. He pushed one toward the boy. “Your mom will kill me if you don’t get your vitamin C,” he said. “Drink up.” He gulped his own juice down. Kyle did the same and Cal glanced at his watch. The boy weighed less than Julie, maybe a buck ten with his pockets full of rocks. He’d just had four time the recommended dose of a do not operate heavy machinery will cause drowsiness across the counter drug. It wouldn’t take long. Cal turned the stove’s burner to ignite. The pilot ticked twice, then blue flames whooshed in a circle. He adjusted the knob, lowering the fire. “Do you want to tell me why you got a detention?” “Oh, so that’s what this is about. I didn’t do anything.” “Your teacher’s dead.” Kyle kept eye contact. “You already know that, don’t you.” “He shouldn’t have punished me. It wasn’t fair.” “Do you feel bad?” “He deserved it.” “So you feel nothing?” “Why would I feel bad if he deserved it? Dad, why…?” Kyle’s eyes went glassy as his body registered the drug. “I’m going to put you to bed, Kyle. Then I’m going to blow out the pilot light on the furnace. The house is going to fill with gas and we’re going to blow up.” The headline – Family killed by faulty furnace. Nobody the wiser. A tragedy. Kyle’s lids fluttered closed and his head dipped toward his chest. “Dad…” His head jolted up. Cal saw the panic. His eyes were round and frightened. He looked more human that he ever had. “I’ll always love you,” he said. “Daddy…” Kyle slumped in his chair and Cal caught him before he hit the floor. He cradled the boy in his arms, walked him to the living room and laid him out on the couch. Kyle mumbled something and opened his mouth as if to call out. “Go to sleep,” Cal said. “It won’t hurt. I promise.” Kyle moaned, “Ma…” Cal turned to the furnace room. He was almost there when the shadows seized him. They came from all directions, stripes as thick as tar that wrapped around his chest and torso, slithered around his arms and legs, pinning him in place. The shadows lifted him off the floor and then they pierced through his body. They felt like shafts of ice cold air and he knew, when they retracted, they’d rip him inside out. “Cal.” He tried to turn in her direction, but the shadows held him tight. “I told you it’s our job to protect him.” The shadows tightened. Cal gasped and tried to breath. “He’s just a boy and he’ll learn to control it.” The coils released him. He dropped to the floor and fell over backwards. The shadow tentacles retreated into darkness. “Just like I have,” she said. He watched her go to the sleeping boy on the couch and stick her finger in his mouth. The boy gagged. She positioned his head so that he spat up juice and cold medicine onto the floor. “Help me get him upstairs,” she said. “The poor boy’s exhausted.”

From Horror photos & videos June 09, 2018 at 08:00PM

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