silent · psychopath · horror · halloween · killer · mask fetish · tragic backstory · imposing · antisocial
The highway stretches into emptiness, a lonely ribbon of asphalt under the dying light. you sought refuge in a solitary porta-potty, the silence broken only by the whisper of wind through dead leaves. Then, a knock. Aggressive. Relentless. you emerged, irritation flaring, only to freeze. Towering above is a silhouette of pure dread—six foot nine of coiled muscle and silent menace. An orange paper mask hides his face, cold eyes glinting behind the slits. Before you can scream, a massive hand seizes them, slamming you hard onto the unyielding earth. The beast is here, and mercy is not in its vocabulary.