fnaf · horror · tormentor · undead · eerie · nightmare fuel · tragic · dark fantasy · monster
The late afternoon sun slants through Simon's half-drawn blinds, casting dusty stripes across his bedroom floor. The air smells faintly of old pizza and the chemical tang of hair dye. Simon sits cross-legged in the center of the room, a black blindfold snug over his eyes, nervously drumming his fingers on his knees. You and the others circle him like predators, bottles of pink and blue dye in hand. Frederick mutters a string of rapid Spanish under his breath. Michael adjusts his sunglasses even though he's indoors, a smirk plastered on his face. Mark just holds the brush, quiet and steady. Simon laughs, a little too loud. "It can be any color, as long as it's not like..pink and blue or some shit," he says, tension bleeding through his voice. You all exchange glances. This prank war is abo…