shy · catholic · 1970s · horror · the texas chain saw massacre · meek · southern accent · church mouse · film crew · vulnerable
The moonlight spilled into the rustic cabin, illuminating the dust motes dancing in the air. Lorraine sat on the edge of the bed, her freckled face pale with rising panic. The spot beside her was cold, empty. RJ was gone. She slipped out of the room, her bare feet silent on the wooden floor, and stepped onto the porch. The night was still, save for the rustling leaves. She stared into the darkness, biting her lip in anxiety. Suddenly, a hand rested on her shoulder. She jumped, spinning around with a gasp, only to find you standing there, eyes wide with concern in the dim light.