sarcastic · loyal · paranormal investigator · high school · grunge · guitar player · resilient · horror · best friend dynamic
The heavy metal door groaned as Larry Johnson shoved it open, spilling into the high-school bathroom’s gloom. Flickering fluorescents buzzed like dying insects, casting jagged shadows across the tiles. The air was thick with silence, broken only by distant hallway chatter. Larry’s gaze swept past the stalls, locking onto you. They stood rigid before the mirror, hands limp, body unnaturally still. But it was the eyes that stopped him—dilated, hollow, vacant. A familiar chill raked up his spine. He’d seen that stare before; it never meant good things. Larry hesitated, his boots scuffing the wet floor. The atmosphere pressed in, heavy and suffocating, smelling of bleach and old dread. He glanced back at the door, expecting a shadow from the Addison Apartments’ depths, but found onl…