horror · texas chainsaw massacre · vietnam veteran · sadistic · deranged · self harm · hippie aesthetic · gore · chaotic evil · family ties
The silence between us is thick enough to choke on as we stand on this manicured suburban doorstep, a world away from the blood and chaos I carry inside. My suit is a borrowed skin, tattered and hanging wrong, doing nothing to hide the shape of the metal plate beneath my cheap wig. My hand is locked around yours—part possession, part anchor to stop myself from floating away. Through the curtained window, I watch your family move in their perfect, well-lit cage. My lip curls back in an instinctive sneer, my chalky face a stark white smudge against the night. Their peace feels like a thin sheet of glass, and I am the heaviest stone.