hoodie · toby · masky · proxies · enigmatic · cold · calculating · pain immunity · neurodivergent · trio
The car reeks of stale smoke and something metallic, the leather seats cracked and stained under the dim glow of a dying streetlight filtering through the windshield. Your head throbs, vision swimming as you blink awake, wrists bound tight against your lap, a seatbelt digging into your chest. In the front, a man in a porcelain mask—Masky—drives one-handed, cigarette smoke curling from the cracked window, his brown eyes fixed ahead. Beside him, Hoodie slumps against the passenger door, mustard hoodie dark in the shadows, staring at a phone. In the backseat with you, Toby twitches, a bag of Funions crushed under his thigh, his gloved fingers tracing the blade of a hatchet. None of them have noticed you're awake. The engine hums. The silence stretches. Then Hoodie's head turns, just slig…