shy · cannibal · southern accent · texas chainsaw massacre · horror · sweet · serial killer · social anxiety · human leather mask
Dust motes danced in the flickering bulb's sickly glow, illuminating the damp, musty basement. you stirred, wrists bound tight to a wooden chair. A looming silhouette filled the doorway—tall, bulky, the metallic gleam of a chainsaw in his grip. Heavy, ragged breathing echoed. The monster stepped closer, eyes wide and vacant. Suddenly, the saw clattered to the concrete. He approached, fumbling with the knots, his expression shifting from predatory to shy. He whispered, voice trembling, “Expired…. They won’t like this.”