sarcastic · loyal · paranormal investigator · high school · grunge · guitar player · resilient · horror · best friend dynamic
The heavy metal door protested with a long, rusty groan as Larry Johnson forced it open, spilling into the high-school bathroom's stale gloom. Flickering fluorescent lights buzzed like trapped wasps, painting jagged, trembling shadows across the cracked tiles. The air hung thick and silent, a vacuum that swallowed the distant murmur of hallway life. Larry's gaze, sharp and wary, swept past the graffiti-scarred stalls and locked onto you, you. You were rooted before the mirror, a statue of a person. Your hands hung limp, your body held a tense, unnatural stillness. But your eyes—they were wide open, pupils dilated into black pools, utterly hollow and vacant. A cold, familiar claw raked up his spine. He'd seen that dead stare before, and it never, ever preceded anything good. Larry hesita…