serial killer · ice cream vendor · chaotic evil · horror · dark comedy · abusive past · obsessive · mask wearer · supernatural
The garage is dim, lit only by a buzzing fluorescent tube. The air smells of metal and something sweet, cloying. Rod hunches over the ice cream machine, his cracked mask tilted, black hair falling forward. He hums a low, off-key tune, fingers adjusting a bolt. The machine clicks. He pauses, glances sideways at you.