Hollow Sorrows Trailer Breakdown LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOO
Obviously, if you don't want spoilers, scroll away. If you've already seen the trailer, LET'S GO!!!
So when we first see possessed Patty, she looks mostly normal, you can't even see her demon teeth through the mask yet. John and Jack probably only came in since they heard a scream and/or struggle coming from the morgue.
So we get a shot of the boys being too chaotic, something Gregor points out and what will likely cause the "bad character development" Pelo ahs mentioned.
Also, since it's 100% what Pelo would do, Costume Bob is the guy in the HF suit. Mark my words.
The scene with the hatz is really interesting to me, since Skid and Pump just annoys Roy for a moment and leave. I think this might be all we get of the hatzgang this time, similar to how Frank only had a brief Appearance in Tender Treats.
If my theory that episode 7 will focus on Roy is true, this little scene will be very interesting to dissect when the full episode drops.
We actually get out first proper glimpse at a new character and I think this old man is the very last character in the line up teaser
And there's also a pretty good chance he Roy's grandfather and given the way he reacts to the boys antics here, I can definitely see him being a another reasons Roy's the way he is.
If he actually is Roy's grandpa, then @crossover-enthusiast and I's Roy discussions are going to get really fun pretty soon.
Here, Skid is clearly holding a framed photo, meaning this will almost certainly be the first time his father is brought up directly.
Also, yeah, with Pump's line about "hangover spooky month", it seems my theory about Lila in this episode was at least half right.
Yet more proof that the boys' absent parents will be more of a focus. The trailer as a whole gives me some ideas regarding the Wonder parents, but I feel they're best saved for another time.
The boys get into trouble with the cops and I have 2 theories regarding when, either Gregor tries to get them sent home before going to the hospital, but they talk their way out of it, or they actually do get sent home at the end of the episode.
John's expression here immediately makes we think that something Skid or Pump said reminded him of his daughter. Another plot thread that has yet to be directly acknowledged.
Ignacio watches Gregor lead the boys away, maybe he lives down the street from Skid and Lila to keep an eye on them for the cult?
Either way, I'm surprised his appearance won't take place in the hospital as I previously predicted.
"I will be your guide. And I know your parents would be proud of you."
There's something undeniably sinister about this line, but how sinister hinges on whether Gregor is a cultist or ex-cultist. Whatever the case may be, he definitely knows more about or sees more in the boys than he lets on.
A great title card, and thought the blood everywhere is definitely concerning, I don't think there's anything to really say here, just wanted to get a screenshot of it.
And it would appear the character I've referred to as the cat lady will have the unenviable role of a hapless victim to the episode's villain. But honestly, I'm more surprised by her being at the hospital in the first place and why that never occurred to me before.
The actual progression of Patty's possession confirms to she's possessed by something other than Moloch.
And what seals it for me is, fittingly, the eyes. The white of her eyes becomes a more vivid yellow, yet her pupil snot only don't form Moloch's typical spirals, but they're a more vivid shade of baby blue, a color that has never had any significance in the series before.
Moloch will mostly be trapped in Dexter before eventually possessing Gregor, I will die on this hill.
AND THE FUGGIN' RELEASE DATE!!!
Alright, that's all, only a month now. We're so back!
80 notes
·
View notes
"Forcing His Hand"
A/N: I have finally finished the prequel to "Something Sweeter"! Just be aware, it's very long. Hopefully after this I won't have such bad writer's block-
Summary: Bob needs a favor and calls upon an old friend, but it seems he's not too willing to help. Unluckily for this "friend", Bob knows how to force his hand.
Trigger warnings: mentions of murder, tickle torture (apparently, didn't know until someone pointed it out to me)
Reminder: These stories are not built on logic. They're made to entertain, not to make sense. Also, be prepared if the characters here are out of character completely (again, the intention is not to be perfect).
(fic below the cut)
“Come again soon!” the cheerful host called after the children. As soon as they were safely out of sight, Streber slumped against the pillar with a sigh. While he did love his job - almost to a fault - it really did do a number on him.
Thankfully, he’d just finished sending off the last group of kids for the night. He knew he needed to rest, but he figured a little tweaking on this week’s project couldn’t hurt. He could never be too careful, right?
With a dramatic swish of the cape, he retreated indoors, intending to change clothes before retrieving his mirror. He could already imagine how comfortable his pajamas would feel. That was one of the smaller pleasures of doing the haunted house every year - looking forward to getting out of that stiff, unbearably heavy vampire set.
He slipped behind the curtain he’d set up in his room and quickly changed. Even though he shared the house with people he’d trust with his life, he wasn’t quite comfortable with being even semi-uncovered around them.
He took a seat at his desk and set to work, and he slipped into his usual work routine so effortlessly. He almost didn’t want to retrieve the mirror he’d left outside. It could probably wait… no, he’d already sworn himself to it… what was the harm in leaving it until tomorrow… no, it was supposed to rain tonight. While Streber didn’t like the idea of abandoning his current project, he hated the idea of three months worth of work being ruined by the weather even more. With an exaggerated sigh, he hesitantly rose from his chair and trudged toward the door.
He glanced out over the deck and observed that it was already starting to drizzle - though thankfully, the wind was blowing it away from the porch. He guessed he had about ten minutes before the rain changed direction. He started by disconnecting the cables, making sure nothing was damaged. He was sure he’d look back at the footage from the camera and curse himself for something else he could’ve touched up on, but that was for another day. All he was focused on was getting the task done so he could get back to work. At least the pajamas made the work bearable.
After a solid eight minutes of work, he had everything set up and just had to carry the mirror frame inside. This was the part of the job he didn’t like very much, but again, it was his own fault - he was the one who had to make everything into some huge extravagant ordeal.
But eventually, he got through it, and he retreated to his corner to resume his work. The idea of synthetic limbs had always interested him, even before the… incident. Now he had an excuse to chase his fascination - or his “obsession” as his friends referred to it. It wasn’t - they just didn’t understand how truly in depth he would consider such things. It was an entire functioning limb that you could simply attach to your person, and these days it was fairly common - back in the day, who would’ve thought that humanity would advance so far?
He was so wrapped up in his work that he hadn’t noticed the creaking down the hall. He paused, listening intently. Did they have rats? No, that couldn’t be… his friends weren’t such neat freaks like he was, but even they wouldn’t allow vermin in the house.
And yet… there it was again.
Against his better judgement, Streber set down his tools and carefully rose from his workstation. He picked up a flashlight and crept to the door, not wanting to wake anybody in the other rooms. He shone the light down the hall, laser-focused on wherever the light illuminated, eyes peeled for whatever was causing a disturbance in the force.
He saw nothing.
He huffed in annoyance. The last thing he needed was a distraction. “Stupid rats,” he grumbled to himself, before returning to his workstation. He’d just have to bear it, unfortunately. He didn’t do well with distractions. He figured he’d just go about the night with no physical distraction.
Blocking out all external elements actually helped tremendously, and the prototype was finished within the hour. With a huge grin, he got to work affixing the new prosthetic to his arm - or lack thereof, he should say. He’d finished his work, and with nothing to indicate that he should’ve been paying attention to anything else.
So you can imagine his fright when he felt someone grab his shoulder. “Who’re ya callin’ a rat?”
It wasn’t just the fact that there was someone in his room so late at night that made this situation scary - the scariest part was that Streber knew who that someone was. His voice alone was enough to make Streber’s heart stop. He froze immediately after registering the person’s voice, and in that agonizingly slow way you see someone turn around in a horror movie, he glanced over his shoulder…
…and the question he’d asked himself mentally was answered, as he stared directly into the cold, unfeeling eyes of Bob Velseb.
The murderer tilted his head in an almost innocent way, still wearing that mile-wide grin like he had on the night of the incident. Just seeing his face made Streber want to crawl into a hole and die of fear. He couldn’t even utter a word because his throat had clenched up.
“Did ya miss me?” the serial killer questioned. “Looks like I took your breath away. Oops~”
His casual tone only had Streber more on edge. What fresh hell was this? Why, of all the people Streber hated that he had to face, why him?!
Only now did he notice the door was closed, and barred with a chair. Damn it. He was dead meat. There was no way he was getting out of this alive. Clearly the murderous freak hadn’t satiated his appetite and had come back for a second helping.
“I’m not giving you my arm!” Streber finally managed to force out, sounding much more pathetic than he’d intended. What was his plan? Obviously he wasn’t a match for his assailant - not only did Bob have the height advantage, but he was a seasoned killer.
Bob’s laugh sent chills down his spine. “Ya act like I need your permission. But lucky you, that ain’t why I’m here. Actually, I need a favor. I already have a backup method in mind, though if ya force my hand…”
Bob didn’t need to finish the sentence for Streber to understand his intentions. But even so, that didn’t stop him from practically snarling his next words. “Why the hell would I help the freak who ripped my arm off and ate it in front of me?!”
The killer was entirely unfazed by his anger, and only continued smiling. “I’ll tell ya why. Because even if ya say no to me, I have a way of… convincin’ ya, to put it one way. I would’ve said you’ve suffered enough, but given how you’re talkin’ to me, I think I changed my mind.”
He was totally screwed now.
“Now, I’ll give ya one last chance. And this is me being extremely generous. You can hear me out, or I can force your hand and make ya hear me out. So tell me, Streber…” he drawled, having closed what little distance there was, and forcing Streber to stand from his chair.
“…won’t ya help an old friend?”
This man was psychotic. There really was no other way to say it. Was there some kind of disconnect in his logic? Did he think threatening a former victim would work? It kind of did, but that was besides the point.
“I’d rather die!” Streber shouted at him, internally cringing as he remembered who he was saying that to. Bob would probably be more than happy to help him with that.
“I’m sure ya would, but unfortunately for you, that’d be too simple. I need ya alive. And if you’re gonna be like that, I’m afraid ya leave me no alternative.”
Okay, maybe not.
Streber remained wary of the knife in the killer’s hand, which he subconsciously knew had been there the whole time. What would Bob take this time? A leg? An organ? His head, perhaps? He’d said that killing him would be “too simple”, but Streber felt like he should know better than to trust the word of a monster.
And something else that had evaded Streber until now was the fact that Bob still hadn’t let go of his shoulder.
In a flash of movement, Bob had slammed him onto the floor, shoving him onto his back hard enough to knock the wind out of him. Streber didn’t even have time to process what happened until he was already on the floor, and entirely out of breath. He tried to stand up, but his assailant kept him pinned by holding a single hand on his chest. How could someone so bulky be so strong?!
Bob glanced at his knife, before tucking it away somewhere under his sweater. “Don’t worry about that. I won’t be needin’ it this time.”
Good god… what could he possibly have planned that didn’t involve a weapon? Was he going to use his bare hands?! Somehow that was scarier than him using a weapon - at least Streber was used to that!
His train of thought - and subsequently, his fear - was quickly derailed by the embarrassingly high-pitched shriek that had just come out of him. What the hell? He was still on the ground… Bob was hovering over him…
…and the killer’s hands had viciously grabbed his sides.
He tried to ask what was going on, but his voice was swallowed by another squeak as Bob dug his claws in again. “WAHAHAHAIT WHAHAHA-?!”
“I already told ya,” the serial killer chuckled. “I have a way of convincin’ ya to hear me out.”
“GAAAAH! I’M SOHOHOHORYHYHY! I TAKE IT BAHAHAHACK!”
“Little too late for that, I’m afraid. Ya made your choice. So just relax, and try not to scream too much. Your friends are sleepin’, after all.”
During this little snippet of dialogue, Bob’s hands were climbing higher to the incapacitated vampire’s ribs. His loud laughs quickly escalated into squeals, but thankfully nobody came running to check on him. Bob wasn’t sure what he’d do if he got caught. He had an agenda, after all - he was just here to get what he needed and leave.
“Now listen,” he said, his tone only a tiny bit more serious than before. “Ya chose the hard route, but I still need somethin’ from ya. And if ya say no, ya already know what I’m gonna do.”
“JUHUHUST SHUT UP AND TELL MEHEHEHE WHAT YOU WAHAHAHAHANT!”
Bob raised an eyebrow, jabbing one of his claws into one of Streber’s underarms. “Keep runnin’ your mouth and I may not stop at just ticklin’ ya.”
“I MEHEHEAN- HOW CAN I HEHEHEHELP YOUHOHOU?”
“Better. Now, I need ya to make somethin’ for me. Well, me and a friend, specifically. Ya see what I’m doin’ with my claws right here?” He waved one set of digits over Streber’s flushed face, and wiggled the others into his ribs.
“OBVIOUSLEHEHEHE! YOU’RE KILLING M- I MEAN, YEHEHES!”
“I need ya to make a sort of tool that’ll give me a way to tickle someone multiple ways all at once. Like I could be using feathers on them one minute, but the next I could zap them. Ya know, like when ya ‘tase’ someone with your fingers?”
Streber did know - he’d been the victim of getting ‘tased’ more times than he cared to admit. Did he really want to hand over that sort of power to someone like Bob, though? He was bad enough without this tool that didn’t exist yet. “WHY WOULD YOU WANT THAHAHAT?”
Bob sighed. “If ya want the truth, killin’ people just ain’t cuttin’ it anymore. It’s all the same tired horror script now. But this-” he scribbled at Streber’s neck, “-this is much better.”
Streber supposed that made sense, and a small part of him was relieved that Bob had opted not to kill him. But most of him was losing his mind from being tickled like this. “FIHIHINE! I’LL DO IHIHIHIT! JUST PLEHEHEASE, STAHAHAP!”
To his great relief, Bob released him immediately. “I could go on for hours, but ya can’t exactly build me a tool if you’re on the floor, hmm?”
Streber managed to pull himself to his feet using his chair, gasping for air. “At least… *huff* you have some sense…”
“Did ya miss the part where I said I can keep ticklin’ ya for hours?”
Streber really needed to stop insulting him…
A few hours had passed, but Streber had definitely made progress. The tool resembled a long black tube, with different colored buttons laid out in a line. So far the features involved a feather duster, a ‘tase’ tool, a paintbrush, and a special device that could imitate raspberries by vibrating. He’d customized the tool to Bob’s exact specifications, which seemed to change every fifteen minutes. Every time Streber finished adding one feature, Bob would immediately think of a new one and demand he add it.
While Bob had been hovering over his shoulder, watching him work and suggesting new features every little while, Streber had also had the misfortune of meeting his “friend” - a sentient Happy Fella doll with the same sadistic tendencies as Bob.
Unfortunately, they also shared the serial killer’s newfound obsession with tickling, evidenced by their first meeting when Streber had dared to make fun of their eyes. That was a mistake Streber wouldn’t make again… if anything, the doll was even more intense than Bob had been.
“It’s done!” Streber announced, holding out the tool to Bob. “Sleek and simple, but with all the features you requested.”
Bob examined the tool carefully, turning it over in his hands. He seemed enamored by it, as if completely taken by the fact that someone actually listened to his crazy idea and made it happen.
“Doesn’t look like much,” the doll noted.
Streber bit back a retort. “That’s the point. It’s meant to look simple. Makes it easier to hide, and easier to transport.”
The doll couldn’t argue with that. Bob’s grin was bright enough to light up the whole room. “It’s perfect. This is exactly what I wanted!”
“If you like it, then I guess I’m fine with it. But hold on… are we sure that he didn’t swindle us?”
Streber’s heart sank. What now?
Bob regarded his companion curiously. “What do ya mean?”
“You saw him build it, but we don’t know if it actually works, do we?”
Realization dawned in Bob’s eyes, and his grin stretched even wider - how that was possible, Streber couldn’t say. “You’re right, Dexter… we don’t know if this thing actually works. But luckily for us, we have someone to test it on!”
Yeah, Streber wasn’t getting out of this one either.
-END-
6 notes
·
View notes