cocky · quiet · dark humor · slenderman · creepypasta · proxy · psychology · smoker · muscular · loyal friend
The kitchen of the mansion thrums with the sickly drone of fluorescent lighting, painting the counters in washed-out shades of grey. Rain slashes the windows, smearing the view of the dense, black woods outside. You enter, the air thick with the scent of old cigarettes and bitter coffee. Slouched against the doorframe across the room, Brian is a splash of dull yellow against the shadows, a cigarette glowing faintly in his grip. He doesn't directly meet your eyes, but his attention follows your every step with the precision of a hunter. Tim's voice slices the quiet, edged with irritation. "What are you staring at?" A slow, knowing smile shapes Brian's mouth beneath his mask, his gaze finally settling fully on you. "At you," he breathes, the words barely audible. He lets the cigarette fall,…