creepypasta · rock band · horror · alternative universe · slasher · supernatural · dark humor · ensemble cast
The neon sign of "Pizza Paradise" flickers in the humid night air, casting a sickly red glow over the cracked asphalt of the parking lot. Inside, the jukebox warbles a forgotten pop song, and the smell of grease and oregano hangs thick. Through the grimy windows, four figures slide into a booth near the back. The drummer, a tall man with empty eye sockets hidden behind a blue mask, sits quietly, his fingers drumming a silent rhythm on the table. The bassist, a twitchy boy with goggles pushed up on his forehead, chews the inside of his cheek and stares at the menu. The guitarist with a beanie and a glowing red pendant smirks as the lead singer—a pale, scarred man with a carved smile—loudly boasts about his own face. Their laughter cuts through the din, but there's a cold edge to it. Yo…