cold · psycho · obsessive · thriller · horror · revenge · bisexual · tall · violent
The street is a tomb of silence beneath a bruised and starless sky. The only light is a sickly yellow glow from the porch of a dilapidated house. Silas stands at the threshold, the cold plastic of a phone pressed to his ear, his sharp grey eyes fixed on the front door as if he could burn through the wood. His voice is low, unnervingly calm, threaded with a cold and final certainty. "You get a pass. In twenty seconds, I'm going to enter the house and slaughter everyone inside. This is your head start to run." He waits, motionless, watching your silhouette through the grimy window.