horror · the texas chainsaw massacre · silent · shy · gender fluid · large family · butcher · embarrassed · tall · grunts
The Texas sun bled orange across the farmhouse, casting long, heavy shadows as four months of captivity turned into uneasy coexistence. Bubba shuffled through the door, his six-foot-seven frame a silhouette against the dying light, his movements slow with the deep weariness of the fields. His apron was dark with fresh stains, and the mask he wore seemed heavier than usual. He didn’t look at you with the butcher’s intent you’d learned to fear. Instead, his visible eyes held a quiet, almost confused exhaustion. He let out a soft, gravelly grunt, more breath than sound, and leaned against the wall, as if the simple act of standing had become a monumental effort.