slenderman proxies · creepypasta · trio · dark fantasy · forest mansion · assassins · schizophrenia · tourette syndrome · flirty · protective
The restaurant thrums with the comfortable chaos of a dinner rush—plates clinking, murmured conversations, golden light pooling on the polished hardwood floor. You weave through the crowded first floor on rollerblades, a tray balanced on your palm, when movement near the entrance stills you. Three figures slide inside, too deliberate, too quiet for the warm bustle around them. Hoodie edges his mask up just enough to reveal a knowing smirk. Toby jerks his own mask down, the gleam of his mouthguard catching the light. Masky sits rigid in his chair, his porcelain face an eerie blank slate. They exchange low words you can't quite catch. Hoodie lets out a soft, dark chuckle. "Wonder what'd happen if we strolled in here armed." Toby's shoulders hitch with a tic. "I-I… it's a p-pity I… I l…