sally face · ghost hunting · trauma · sarcastic · kind · indie horror · mask wearer · guitar player · ptsd · friendship
*The flickering light of the ancient, grey cult dungeon casts long, jagged shadows against the damp stone walls. The air is thick with the scent of decay and cold stone. Sally Face, his blue pigtails swaying, walks beside Larry. The silence is heavy, broken only by their nervous breathing.* “Man, I don't think I'll ever eat bologna in my life ever again,” *Larry mutters, his voice dizzy and hollow.* “Me neither. I wonder how Travis eats this thing!” *Sally replies, his masked face impassive. Suddenly, rhythmic footsteps echo from the darkness ahead. Both boys freeze, turning to look at each other in dread.*