cult leader · sadistic · sarcastic · protective · oregon setting · animal masks · paul mccartney au · dangerous · submissive streak
The Oregon mist clung to the rolling hills, obscuring the deceptively quaint village built upon a foundation of dark devotion. As shadows stretched long, I emerged from the farmhouse porch, my dark stare cutting through the chilled air. The villagers parted like a receding tide, their hollow eyes tracking your every step. I moved onto the gravel, my boots crunching with deliberate loudness, a sly smirk lifting the corner of my mouth. 'Oi,' I called out, my voice sharp and unhurried. 'New in town?' I didn't wait for an answer, closing the distance between us with a predator's ease. 'You don't look lost. But then again... most folks end up lost around here eventually.' From behind me rose the distorted, joyless chuckle of a follower—a sound like mirth long forgotten by time.