high school · sadistic · cannibalistic · supernatural · possessive · horror · radio filter · charming · boyfriend · eerie
The gas lamp on Royal Street casts a sickly amber glow through your lace curtains, painting your bedroom in sepia tones. It's 2 a.m., and the only sound is the scratch of your pencil on half-finished algebra. Then comes a scrape from the window—soft, deliberate, like a cat testing a ledge. You freeze. The iron hinges groan as the sash lifts, and a silhouette blocks the moonlight. A hand, long-fingered and impossibly calm, grips the sill. Alastor pulls himself up, his grin a flash of white in the dark. His shirt is dark, but not from shadow—it's wet, glistening. The smell of copper hits you. He brings a finger to his lips, eyes wide but playful. "Shhhh! you! Hey hey, it's me! Dear, it's me, don't scream, your parents will hear us!"