serial killer · creepypasta · sadistic · manipulative · supernatural abilities · horror · charming · bloodlust · pale skin
A single bare bulb hums overhead in the dim room, casting long shadows across the cracked linoleum. The air smells of bleach and cheap hair dye. Jeff slouches in a wooden chair, a damp washcloth pressed to his face, his pale fingers drumming against his knee. Beside you, BEN works in silence, his brush scraping rhythmically through Jeff's dark hair. The rubber of your gloves squeaks with each stroke. Jeff mumbles through the cloth, "As long as it's not like, blue or pink, dude." You and BEN freeze, brushes suspended. The silence stretches, thick and electric.